


One More Thing

by Gethsemane342



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Asexuality, F/F, F/M, Female Character In Command, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Living in someone's shadow, Period-Typical Racism, Team as Family, You can read the pairing either way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gethsemane342/pseuds/Gethsemane342
Summary: The Architect has been defeated. The Mother is dead. All that's left for Sigrun is to head into the Deep Roads and complete her duty. Except that the Warden-Commander always seems to have just one more thing she needs Sigrun to do first...
Relationships: Female Andras/Sigrun, Female Andras/Sigrun (platonic), Nathaniel Howe/Velanna
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> I intended this as a oneshot but the story sort of grew. There will probably be 2 or 3 chapters in total. I found myself wondering just how the Warden keeps Sigrun occupied for so long to get her to put off going to the Deep Roads. I also found playing Awakening with the Orlesian Warden interesting, since she's suddenly in charge of this land in another country, and is permanently in the shadow of the Hero of Ferelden. So there we go. I should flag that I've not played past Awakening so the fic is based purely on the epilogue endings I got - in particular, I know the later games do something different with Anders and Justice but...

She thought of it, the first night back, but it just wasn't the right moment. They'd returned from Drake's Fall and despite everything, despite how _awful_ it had been, there was an air of festivity. After all, they'd stopped the Architect. They'd stopped the Mother. They'd saved Ferelden. Maybe all of Thedas.

They knew the Blights were only temporarily halted. They knew Amaranthine had been destroyed. And for all of their efforts, there were still only eight Grey Wardens in Ferelden, one of whom was the King (so he didn't count). But by unspoken agreement, they spent that evening getting slowly and uproariously drunk, laughing about the silly situations they'd gotten into over the past few months. Oghren told ridiculous stories of his previous lives as a warrior and companion to the hero of Ferelden (and indulged Sigrun's requests for more tales about Natia Brosca, the only duster to actually _make it_ ); Anders told amusing tales of his many escapes from the Circle (and did some magic displays for Sigrun). Nathaniel loosened up and told a few stories of his own. Velanna, still sore from the loss of her sister, just watched, but Sigrun talked about Dust Town, making it sound more amusing than it was. Justice mainly seemed confused by it all but lightened up when they indulged his curiosity about the living.

Evelien just laughed and watched quietly. But that was OK. She was the Commander. She had to be dignified.

Despite her usual stoicism, she still turned out to be a rather giggly drunk, and Sigrun rather liked that about her.

* * *

But the next day, she couldn't escape it.

She was dead. She was supposed to be in the Deep Roads, fighting until she was overwhelmed. She'd done her part and saved Ferelden, but now it was time to do her duty.

(Mischa had been in Amaranthine. The Commander had given her twenty gold sovereigns, and now Amaranthine was in ruins, and Mischa was probably dead.)

She packed her bag. She wouldn't need much. The Deep Roads could be accessed from nearby, and she only needed to last as long as it took to reach darkspawn. If she could get to Kal'Hirol, to return her friends to the Stone, even better but she knew her limits. Still, she couldn't help taking her spyglass. Her toy chariot, her snowglobe. Varlan's ring on her finger. It would remind her of her friends here.

(She'd _let_ Amaranthine burn. She'd let the Commander talk her out of saving it. How many innocent people had died that day?)

She pulled on her armor. Grabbed her swords. Checked her-

"Up already? Good."

She spun, feeling like a guilty child. Evelien stood in the doorway, looking none the worse for wear. Sigrun hadn't heard her coming, but that wasn't a surprise. The Commander stepped so softly, it was almost impossible to hear her until she was right behind you. Sigrun had always wondered if Orlais had sent a young-looking elven Grey Warden whose primary skills were theft, lockpicking and backstabbing, as some kind of weird insult. The strange auburn flame-like tattoos, accenting her pointed cheekbones, only seemed to add insult to injury; as did the one earring she always wore.

"Yes," Sigrun said, trying to sound normal. "My head aches though."

Evelien's lips quirked. "I am not surprised." Her accent was lightly Orlesian. She claimed she'd travelled a lot and that's why it wasn't stronger. "You looked like you were trying to keep up with Oghren."

"Hey, dwarves know how to deal with the good stuff."

"He downed the whole goblet of blood at his Joining. You can't keep up with that."

Sigrun smiled. "I know that now." She tried not to look at her packed bag. "Do you need anything, Commander?"

"Yes, actually," the elf said. Her tone became serious again. "I'm sorry to ask this so soon, but we must scout the Knotwood Hills, in case any darkspawn linger there. Would you mind going? Take Velanna. I think she needs some time away from people and … me."

A flash of sadness. Velanna had shouted at Evelien when it was revealed that they didn't know what had happened to Seranni. Evelien had absorbed that anger stoically, compassion in her blue eyes as she'd apologized. It didn't fool any of them. They all knew how much Evelien cared.

"She'll forgive you, Commander."

"Maybe. And it is Evelien, Sigrun. You know that." When Sigrun opened her mouth, she said, "After all the times you have saved my life in the past few months, it's Evelien. So. Can I count on you to go?"

Sigrun hesitated. "Comman- Evelien…" She summoned her courage. "I … my Calling…"

"You have been a Grey Warden for less than half a year."

"I know but … I can't delay this any longer."

"I know, Sigrun. But this is urgent and I need the others elsewhere. Please. It's just one thing. I'm sure after that, we will be in a better state and if you still want to go…" Her gaze was level as she inspected the dwarf. "I would much rather you stayed but as a Grey Warden, how can I deny someone who wants to fight the darkspawn?"

A sense of calm flooded over her. "Thanks, Co- Evelien."

"So…"

She sighed. Her head actually _was_ starting to pound. "I'll get Velanna."

* * *

The Knotwood Hills mission took about a week. Velanna started with her usual seething anger, but calmed when surrounded by her precious nature, and even engaged in some form of pleasant conversation. Sigrun didn't mind Velanna. Velanna would tell her about plants and animals, and that fascinated her.

Most of the darkspawn were, in fact, gone. When they were near the entrance to the Deep Roads, Sigrun looked towards the doors and wondered if she should send Velanna back alone.

"My sister might be in there," Velanna said.

Panic seized her. "I don't think she would be here," she said. "She would have been by Drake's Fall."

The mage looked like she wanted to argue but Sigrun had a hand on her arm. After freezing for a second, Velanna sagged. Tentatively, Sigrun hugged her. And Velanna, who was always so angry, so confident and sure, cried.

Sigrun couldn't exactly leave her after that.

* * *

("She's out there somewhere."

"Velanna-"

"The Architect was not offering anything terrible. The Commander-"

"He wanted our blood. The Commander had to make a quick decision. I don't think … we didn't see your sister. I don't even know if…"

"…Sigrun?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing.")

* * *

It was late afternoon when they returned. Neither of them had talked about Velanna crying, and Sigrun knew they never would. Velanna barely contributed to their report. But that was OK. Evelien still smiled warmly at them both and thanked them.

Velanna just shrugged and left. Sigrun said, "I think it reminded her of her sister."

The Commander nodded. "I see. I should think more carefully about where I send her." She studied Sigrun. "Thank you. You did a good job."

That evening, Sigrun sat with Justice. He told her of the Fade. She could see why humans and elves were so attached to the place. It sounded peaceful.

It wasn't for her though. Down in the Deep Roads, by the Stone, that was where she would end.

* * *

The next morning, the Commander came in just as she was waking up.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Sigrun said, yawning. "Is this goodbye?"

"No. Well. I hope not. I wanted to catch you before you left, to ask for another favour."

"Commander?"

" _Evelien_." Evelien shook her head. "The King is arriving in a couple of days. After everything that has happened, he wishes to see the Grey Wardens for himself."

"Commander-"

"I know, Sigrun. I'm sorry." She looked surprisingly contrite. "I had one job, which was to keep this arling in one piece. Instead, I ordered the destruction of our one major city." There was a slump in her shoulders. "The least I can do is demonstrate that I have some functioning Grey Wardens. And given one of them is a corpse…"

Sigrun had rarely seen the Commander like this. The Commander listened to their problems. She sympathised, thought of solutions, bolstered them. She didn't talk about herself or her concerns.

Which meant…

"I'll stay for this." She tried to smile. "It might even be worse than death. I'm not very good with, er, nobles. They don't tend to like me."

A smile appeared on Evelien's face, lighting up blue eyes. "It's fine. You do not need to speak. Just turn up and be yourself." She thought for a minute. "Just don't steal anything from him."

"I always give it back!"

"I know, but I am not sure he'll see it that way."

* * *

A few days later, they lined up in front of the human king. He looked younger than Evelien and, despite his sombre uniform, had a kind twinkle in his eyes. They'd all tried to get hints from Oghren about how to deal with him, but Oghren had just laughed before tripping over something, and Nathaniel had disgustedly suggested they stop asking him for help. Sigrun regretted that now. Oghren was the only one at ease.

The King inspected them carefully. He paused when he saw her tattoos.

"Legion of the Dead?"

"Yes. Er, your Majesty."

He shook his head. "Alistair. I'm a Warden, like you." He kept looking at her, and she got the intense urge to remind Evelien that she'd _promised_ Sigrun wouldn't need to speak. "I was sorry to hear about the Legion. They fought with us in Denerim. I don't suppose you were there?"

She shook her head. "I stayed behind to keep our strongholds defensible."

The King nodded. "That's a shame. We could have used decent fighters like you. Natia would have been pleased to see another casteless dwarf in the Wardens. Just … don't go the same way she did, alright?" A grimace. Then he looked at Nathaniel. "And who are … you look familiar."

They all tried not to trade looks.

"I'm Nathaniel, your Majesty."

"Nathaniel…"

"My cousin," Oghren interjected breezily. "Odd lad, but he cleans up well."

The King paused. "Your … cousin?"

"Aye. On my mother's side."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sigrun saw Evelien's hands twitch, as though she wanted to put her head in them.

"You're half dwarf," the King said to Nathaniel in a flat tone of voice.

"That's right," Anders said quickly. "He doesn't like to talk about it." He lowered his voice. "Would you want to admit to being related to…"

"Oi!"

Sigrun snickered. Evelien looked a little like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, rolled his eyes. "They are trying to … I'm Nathaniel Howe, your Majesty. Son of Rendon Howe."

"I see." The King turned to Evelien, the smile gone from his eyes. "You have an interesting array of Wardens here, Commander."

She bowed. "Nathaniel dealt the final blow to the Mother. I am honoured to call him brother, Majesty."

One of Nathaniel's pleased smiles slipped onto his face. The King still didn't look convinced.

Sigrun said, "I'm kind of surprised you've not commented on the corpse yet."

Evelien glared at her, but the King stopped looking at Nathaniel so it was worth it.

"The corpse?" he said. "The dwarf smells a bit but I wouldn't-" He paused as he took Justice in properly. "Wait. You really _are_ a corpse." He turned back to Evelien, one eyebrow raised. "Should I ask?"

"You are the King?" Justice said. "I wish to-"

" _Later_ , Justice," Evelien hissed as Anders and Sigrun sniggered. "You can write to him."

"Justice cannot be left too long."

"Is he talking about himself in the third person?" The King shook his head. "Never mind. And you are?"

Velanna glowered at him. "I don't see why I should answer to you after everything you allowed-"

Sigrun stepped back to quickly nudge Velanna. "Sorry about her. Velanna's, er, a bit sensitive about … humans."

"About anyone, really," added Anders. "Mostly humans though."

"She has some legitimate concerns," Nathaniel said.

The King glanced at Oghren, an amused smile now playing on his face. "Natia would have liked this."

Oghren grunted. "Maybe it's a Warden thing. Collecting assassins and murderers and all."

The King chuckled. "True. Do you think they'll come back for…"

"Who knows?" Oghren scratched his arm. "The mage will. Wynne, not the other one. Maybe the assassin too. I'll eat my own arm if Sten comes back."

"And Leliana?"

Oghren sighed. "Ah, boy. Don't go hoping for something like that. Duster being made Paragon is miracle enough for one lifetime."

The King sighed too. Sigrun watched the exchange with some confusion, but neither of them seemed to want to elaborate.

The King clapped his hands. "Well. That's done. Shall we eat?"

* * *

"Thank you," Evelien said to her as they headed to eat. "That would have been worse if you weren't there."

"That wasn't so bad," Sigrun said cheerfully. "Nobody died. I knew someone in Dust Town. He said the wrong thing and Beraht gutted him in front of everyone."

Evelien blinked. "I suppose, compared to that, this did go well."

"It's a minimum standard. You should try using them, they really help."

Now, the elf's lips quirked. "Maybe I should. This is why I like having you around. You always find a bright side to everything."

"There usually is one."

"That's true." Her gaze softened. "But if you ever wanted to talk…"

"I know," Sigrun said. "I will."

* * *

The King told them he wanted them at the anniversary of the Archdemon's defeat in Denerim. Sigrun didn't even wait for Evelien to ask before agreeing to come: after the inspection, she thought the Commander might have a fit if anything else went wrong. Though as far as she could tell, the King had thought the whole thing was amusing.

Besides, it was just a couple more weeks. After that…

* * *

The anniversary celebrations were formal. Her armour was hot and the humans stared at her tattoos. Oghren started the whole thing drunk and had to be propped up by a resigned Nathaniel. Justice kept trying to break ranks to stop pickpockets, stopped only by Anders and, occasionally, Velanna. It was all very boring and all she really wanted to do was explore the city because it was so _big_ and it smelled so weird.

The Fereldens booed Evelien when the King introduced her: the combination of being Orlesian, elven, and ordering the destruction of Amaranthine apparently did not make her popular. The Commander remained expressionless, but Sigrun saw her hands clench. Afterwards, even Velanna talked about how ungrateful shemlens were, while Anders came up with all sorts of pranks they could pull.

After they retrieved Oghren from his reunion with some of his former companions, a dwarf woman came up to them. She looked vaguely familiar, but Sigrun couldn't place her.

"I just wanted to tell you that you'll always have the dwarves' support," she said.

Evelien was quiet. Then she said, "Should I ask what your sister would have done?"

Sigrun got it before most of the others did. Rica Brosca. The sister of Natia Brosca; now wife of King Bhelen, and ambassador of Orzammar.

Rica looked down. "Natia had different strengths and weaknesses to you."

"I see."

"But she would have understood," she said, looking up. "She would have said the important thing was getting rid of the darkspawn. She gave her life for that." She saw Sigrun and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know Legionnaires could become Wardens."

"Oh, I'm unique," Sigrun said. "I'm still not sure if this is a promotion." She hesitated. "Er. Your Majesty."

It occurred to her that she should probably be apologising for fleeing her duty. She opened her mouth but Rica smiled. "And a duster too. That would … Natia would love it."

"I … Yeah. That's what the King said."

"You show them," Rica said seriously. "You show them Natia wasn't a one-off. We _are_ worth something. You prove it."

Her throat felt tight because she wasn't a duster, not anymore. She was dead. And in no way was she worthy to live up to _Natia Brosca's_ name. But all she said was, "I will."

* * *

They made their way back to Vigil's Keep. Oghren sang bawdy songs with Sigrun. Justice mused about the state of Denerim. Anders and Nathaniel tried to convince Velanna to lighten up. Evelien, of course, was quiet and focused.

On their return, the Commander went to her office and locked the door. She had to write reports, she said, but Sigrun saw the way her fists clenched and unclenched, and wondered if there was something more to it.

Anders, watching as well, said, "Do you think Natia Brosca was really all that?"

"She was a hero," Sigrun said.

"So is the Commander."

"I know," she said.

"I guess," Anders said thoughtfully, "that people prefer their heroes dead. That's why I never want to be one."

"Mmm," Sigrun agreed and thought of the bags at the foot of her bed. She would never be a hero. That much was certain. But she didn't need to be one. She just needed to fulfil her duty.

* * *

The next day, Evelien asked her to go to the ruins of Amaranthine, to investigate rumours of darkspawn. She was stretched thin, she said, and this was urgent. She still looked pale. So, Sigrun went with Justice and Nathaniel.

There were no darkspawn.

It was awful.

She didn't find Mischa's corpse, but she found plenty of others, despite the best efforts of soldiers sent in previously to clean up the city. Justice cursed the darkspawn, and swore vengeance. Nathaniel, who'd argued _for_ this destruction, wrapped an arm around her and let her sob into his chest.

"No wonder they hate us," he said.

She couldn't disagree.

* * *

"I know you have just returned," Evelien said that evening, "but I would be grateful if you would investigate the bandits by the old farms. They're preying on refugee families and I can't spare the troops."

Faced with that, what could Sigrun say but yes? Maybe it would redeem her, after what they'd done.

* * *

They saved seven families and four merchants.

"Makes you feel like a hero, doesn't it?" Oghren said. "Almost like a decent ride, if you know what I mean."

"Sure," Sigrun said, wiping her blade clean. "I'm just glad we could help."

"You not planning on doing a runner then?"

She frowned. "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged, scratching his cheek. "You Legion types are always going on about dying. Surprised you're still around."

Guilt hit her. "I'm not very good at it."

Before she could continue, Oghren offered her a drink of whatever he'd been swigging. "No sense throwing yourself at death, is there? Last thing we need is more dead duster Wardens."

She didn't want to offend him, so she nodded and took the drink. It was so strong that she coughed, and let Oghren hit her back.

* * *

She somehow wasn't surprised to find that by the time they returned to the Keep, Evelien had found another set of bandits that needed eradicating.

"I am sorry," Evelien said. "I just trust you to do a good job."

Sigrun shrugged. Velanna had offered to read some books with her, and, selfish as it was, she was looking forward to having some time to do that before going to the Deep Roads.

"I'll just have to throw myself at the bandits extra hard," she said. "If I squint, they might look like darkspawn." She hesitated. "Just don't make me go back to…"

Evelien's expression softened. "I'm sorry. Was Amaranthine hard?"

"All those people," Sigrun said. "And Mischa. Mischa's there, somewhere. I know she is."

A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sigrun. I take responsibility."

Her expression was calm and serious, and her gaze was resolute.

Sigrun shook her head, fingers twisting Varlan's ring. "You weren't responsible for her being sent here. I was. I … failed. I always fail."

Evelien kneeled so that they were eye to eye. "Sigrun, you are one of my most capable fighters, a good friend, and a valuable member of the Wardens," she said. "You got us through Kal'Hirol. You saved Ferelden from the Architect and the Mother. It doesn't bring Mischa back but … you can make things better for many other people. Trust me. I know."

"I-"

She stood. "In any event, Amaranthine was my decision. Mischa's death is on me. Don't burden yourself with fault where none lies."

Sigrun looked at her, gentle, stoic and serious, and remembered how she had clenched her fists when they returned from Denerim. The quietness of her question to Rica Brosca. "Maybe I should just blame the darkspawn," she said. "They were the ones who attacked Amaranthine."

"I suppose that is sensible," Evelien said.

But, Sigrun knew that deep down, they were still both blaming themselves.

* * *

Of course, she survived the bandits, but returned to find a riot. The Fereldens' anger at the destruction of Amaranthine had apparently reached boiling point. Sigrun helped the soldiers quell the mob but she felt dirty. She could understand their anger, after what she'd seen.

Evelien showed mercy, just as she had the last time there had been a riot. She made a public promise to rebuild the city as the rioters left, nursing their bloody wounds. Still, they muttered about Orlesian plots and elves not knowing their place. Justice's loud suggestions that rioters fighting a just leader should be executed did not help.

That evening, everyone was quiet. Oghren got drunker and drunker until Velanna snapped at him to go to sleep. Anders tried to tell jokes; Nathaniel told him to be quiet. Evelien's lips were thin. She barely spoke, other than to offer words of comfort to them all.

They'd put down the mob, but it didn't feel like a victory.

* * *

Evelien was as good as her word and immediately put people to rebuilding Amaranthine. Sigrun decided that now was perhaps the time to follow the Calling but Evelien needed as much help as she could get, and constantly found work for her. Some tasks took weeks, some just days – patrols around the area, helping to find new recruits and train them, getting rid of bandits, fighting occasional errant darkspawn. Each time, it was urgent and important, and Evelien was sorry but would Sigrun mind…

She joked that she was a terrible member of the Legion of the Dead, or that whatever new task she had was surely worse than death, and Evelien would smile guiltily and say she was grateful. In the meantime, as life returned to something resembling normal, Sigrun read books with Velanna and helped her fill in the notebook the Commander had given her. She avoided Oghren's leers but found him to be a decent drinking companion and source of stories about Natia Brosca. Anders was good for playing pranks around the Keep; Nathaniel liked to learn about dwarven culture and taught her archery in return. Even Justice was fun to talk to, if one ignored his overly lawful attitude – especially given they were both new to the surface world, in a way.

And Evelien, of course, was always there with a sympathetic ear and quiet suggestions about things Sigrun might want to do. If she had her own concerns, she did not discuss them. Instead, she let Sigrun talk about growing up in Dust Town, about her uncle turning her away, her mother's death, the awful things she'd seen, how she felt killing that guard. She listened calmly and sympathetically, never excusing what Sigrun did but never blaming her either, before letting Sigrun tell some jokes, or distracting her with a book or item.

Around her, Sigrun watched a few more Wardens be recruited: most saved from trouble by Evelien, naturally. Many of those recruited died in the Joining and that never got easier to watch. But Evelien seemed to have a knack for picking people who would survive. Of course, the original companions were the highest ranked, and Evelien started giving them command of patrols. Sometimes, Sigrun wanted to query whether people _should_ listen to a duster Legionnaire of the Dead, but it didn't seem to matter to these surfacers.

(She never did find out what happened to Mischa. She never talked of it again either, but on one trip to the city with Evelien, a slim elven hand squeezed her shoulder, followed by an _I'm so sorry_.)

* * *

After a while, as things quietened, Sigrun couldn't help but feel that the errands were getting slightly ridiculous.

"I'm not saying this is beneath my dignity," Sigrun said on one occasion, looking into the Commander's familiarly stoic face, "but do you actually want me to do this?"

"Yes," the Commander said, in her usual calm, sensible way. "Ser Pounce-a-lot is invaluable but he's not invulnerable. If we can harness his training and spread it out, our patrols will be much safer. He saved us when we fought the Mother after all."

"And we can't just _buy_ new cats?"

"Cover your ears," Anders said to the cat on his shoulder. He gave Sigrun a look of injured horror. "Ser Pounce-a-lot deserves the very best."

"From the streets?"

"Aren't you from the streets?" Anders said with a winning smile. Nearby, she thought she saw Nathaniel chuckle.

"I … you're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

"It _is_ urgent, despite what you may think. We need to be well-protected. Things aren't back to normal yet."

She sighed. "OK. Fine. How hard can it be to catch cats for breeding anyway? They seem cute."

Evelien almost smiled as she said, "I think this will satisfy your lust for danger."

"Ooh. Save me from the claws of small creatures." Sigrun smirked. "I'll let this one slide."

* * *

"Ouch!"

"I don't think Ser Pounce-a-lot was ever this feisty."

"Can't you put a spell on them?"

"Why do you think magic can solve everything?"

"What's the point in being a mage if you can't snap your fingers and make things happen?"

"…Thank you for making my entire life seem so pointless."

"Aw, I'm sorry Anders. Maybe you could-"

"No. No bushes. Ouch."

"I was going to say read about animal taming but setting a bush on fire would work too. Stay still! Remind me, why can't we _buy_ the cats? Some of them might have come from the streets. Don't humans sell cats?"

"The best cats live on the streets permanently. They're masters of escaping and fighting. Like me."

"You got caught seven times."

"Am I caught now?"

"Ow. No, but that's because the Commander saved your ass."

"Come here, you cute … got you. Aw. She's so soft and furry. She's purring!"

"Hard to believe people thought you were dangerous."

"Don't listen to her. We're _very_ scary. Give her a pet, Sigrun."

"…Aw, she's happy. Are all cats as furry as her and Ser Pounce-a-lot? Can we find another one?"

"You see? Cats make everything better."

* * *

"Thank you."

Sigrun sighed as she took her bleeding hands out of the ice-cold water. "Was that one _really_ important?"

"Yes." Evelien's eyes laughed. Sigrun liked that expression on her – it showcased the dry sense of humour she tried so hard to hide. After a second, they glanced at the new cats, all of whom were playing with Anders, save for one who seemed enamoured with a very confused Justice. Velanna was also sidling closer, trying to pretend she didn't care. Sigrun saw Evelien try not to look at her for too long. All this time and Velanna still hadn't quite forgiven the Commander. "We had a cat growing up," Evelien said absent-mindedly. "Well, a stray. He was quite the charmer."

"What happened to him?"

The elf's expression turned blank. She shook her head slightly. "He died. I'd better check on the new recruit."

"Commander… Er. Evelien." Evelien turned back. Sigrun looked at that awful blankness in her eyes. "You know you can talk to me. Or any of us. We … I know you're our commander but you always say, we're your friends and friends talk to each other, don't they? That's what Mischa said when we were in Orzammar. And that's what Nathaniel says sometimes too."

Now, a slight smile crept onto the elf's face. "That is very kind of you, Sigrun, but it's OK. This was a long time ago. It does no good to dwell."

"But even in general…"

"I know. Thanks, Sigrun. But don't worry. Nobody has cursed me for being Orlesian for weeks now. And the last time someone insulted me for being an elf was a whole four hours ago."

She took all of these things stoically, even as she leaped to the defence of any Warden who was ever slighted, and Sigrun loved that about her.

So, she said, "Do you ever get homesick?"

Evelien froze. It was only for a second but Sigrun saw it. Then the elf was back to being stoic. "Sometimes. The weather in Orlais is nicer and the people are … more elegant. But I am happy here. If I had not come here, I would not have known all of you." She smiled, started to reach for her, then stopped. "Get your hands healed. We'll talk later, OK?"

"Huh," Nathaniel said from behind her as Evelien walked off. "I thought she might hug you then."

It was strange. Sigrun had thought the same thing. But Evelien almost never hugged people.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't have minded a hug. Would you like to hug me instead, Nathaniel?"

He considered this. "Why not?" he said, and hugged her.

* * *

More bandits. More patrols. Some excursions into the Deep Roads, but always leading newish recruits so that she would feel compelled not to slip away. In the midst of it all was Evelien, as calm and organised as possible. Despite how busy she always was, she made time to sit and talk to each Warden, and even continued to find little gifts for them. Although she rarely talked about her own life, she had a knack for getting others to open up about theirs. The public hated them, hated _her_ , but every Warden loved her with a fierce intensity – save, perhaps, for Velanna. But then, Velanna only appeared to tolerate most people.

Except Nathaniel. As time went by, Sigrun watched Nathaniel and Velanna slip closer together. She and Anders made bets on when they would become a couple, sometimes trying to push them together. Their problem, Anders said, was that he was too honourable and she was too prideful. Oghren, overhearing, suggested that Velanna just needed to sleep with a real man. Justice, overhearing _that_ , said that from his memories of Kristoff-

"That's OK," Sigrun said. "Oghren is just being Oghren."

"Is that a crime?" Anders asked Justice. "It feels like it should be."

"You're jealous because all the ladies want a piece of Oghren."

Anders turned to her. "As the nearest lady to hand, is that true?"

"I'll show you a good time," Oghren said to her, leering.

She rolled her eyes. "If I had to pick between you and Anders, it would definitely be Anders." The mage raised an eyebrow. "Don't get any ideas. It's the best of a bad choice."

"Oh, you flatterer, you," he said, laughing. "I'll have you know a _very_ lovely man made my acquaintance yesterday-"

"I'll leave you to it," she said and got up.

But a few weeks later, Velanna came up to her as she returned from a patrol around the Keep. In typical Velanna fashion, she didn't exchange any pleasantries, or even ask Sigrun if she _wanted_ to talk. She said, "I need to know how to keep that _shemlen_ away from me."

"Which shemlen?" Sigrun said, starting to take off her weapons.

"What do you mean which shemlen?"

She put her sword down. "You call all humans that."

"Nathaniel."

"Oh." She scratched her arm. "Why? What's he done?"

"I want to _kiss_ him."

Sigrun looked at her. Something like satisfaction stirred in her belly. "Then why don't you?"

"How can I kiss a _shemlen_?"

"With your lips?" Velanna scowled. "I'm sorry," Sigrun said. "I don't see the problem. If you like him and he likes you, why not?"

"It's something about this taint that makes me feel this way. But you've beaten it. I never see you with anyone."

She flinched, satisfaction gone. "What?"

"Oh, please, Sigrun. I've seen Nathaniel look at women, and Anders doesn't seem to _stop_ finding shemlens for dalliances with. As for the dwarf…" She made a disgusted noise. "But _you_ seem unaffected. How do you do it?"

"I'm dead, Velanna. Dead dwarves don't-"

" _Symbolically_ dead. Tattoos don't remove bodily functions. Unless you're claiming to be dead inside, in which case you would need to seek medical-"

A cough made them turn around. Evelien stood there, arms crossed. Her gaze was level as she looked at Velanna. "I thought you would know better than to question cultural traditions."

Velanna scowled. "I'm not questioning it. And what would you know of-"

"Enough." She didn't raise her voice but they both stood to attention anyway. "You're free to ask Sigrun for advice, but you are not to question her culture."

"Well, I can't speak to _you_ since it's not as though _you_ ever look at-"

"I said _enough_." They both winced. "If you are unhappy with your romantic life, you do _not_ take it out on other people. Find Nathaniel and say whatever you want to him, but if you wish to end it with him, do so _politely_. You are both Wardens and I expect you to act like Wardens. Am I understood?"

Velanna scowled but nodded before walking off. Sigrun watched her leave. A hand on her shoulder made her jump.

"I'm sorry for intervening," the elf said. "I know your feelings on the Legion of the Dead."

Sigrun made herself shrug. "It's OK. Maybe it'll push her and Nathaniel together. I have money riding on this."

Evelien smiled. "I've heard. Anyway, I hope I have not made things awkward with you and Velanna. Though, for the record, if you _did_ want to bring anyone back, that would, of course, be fine." She smiled. There was understanding and compassion in her gaze, like always. "Now, I had better meet the patrol captain like I promised."

Evelien knew so much about her. They spoke nearly every evening in the Keep. Evelien occasionally told her tales of other Wardens, knowing how much Sigrun liked stories, notwithstanding her reluctance to talk about herself. Sometimes, she'd discuss tactics with the dwarf, noting her ideas and bouncing some back off her. She treated her like-

"I lied."

The Commander paused mid-step. "Hmm?"

She couldn't look at Evelien. "About it being because I'm a Legionnaire. It's not banned. Lots of dwarves there did it. It beat sitting around, waiting to be killed." She took a breath. "Or so I was told. But … I never wanted to do it. Holding someone, being with them, maybe kissing, that was nice. But the rest, I could take or leave. I'm like Velanna said. Dead or broken that way." She fidgeted. "I'm sorry. I made you lie. I shouldn't have done that to you. You-"

A gentle hand nudged her head up. She looked into a compassionate expression. "Thank you for telling me that, Sigrun. But you're not dead or broken. Not even slightly."

"Th-Thanks, Commander."

"And I don't mind that you lied. That was something very personal to you. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I am very happy to intervene, regardless of whether I know the real reason. I trust you."

Sigrun closed her eyes. "You do so much for all of us. I don't want you to think I'm not grateful."

Now, Evelien bent down so that her eyes were level with Sigrun's. "I have never had a reason to doubt you, Sigrun. None. We all have secrets. I never want you to think that you _must_ tell me something if you would rather not, OK?" She paused. "Honestly, between Oghren and Anders, I sometimes think I would prefer it if you were all a bit _less_ honest."

Sigrun smirked. "Do you actually believe what they say?"

"I try to believe all my Wardens." She paused. "Some maybe more than others." Sigrun laughed. Evelien looked pleased. Then she said, "Actually, I've just remembered. I have another task for you to do."

Sigrun bit back a grin. "Of course you do. Let's hear it."

* * *

Later, Velanna thrust a flower into Sigrun's hand.

"Because of earlier," the mage muttered as Sigrun blinked. "Your ways are important and you should keep to them."

Guilt flashed through her. "Thanks." She looked at the flower. "I love the colour. It's pretty."

"Of course. Nature is beautiful if you know where to look." Velanna glanced away. "Also, I took your advice and kissed Nathaniel."

"Ooh. How did it go?"

An odd mix of scowling and cheer appeared on the mage's face. "I improved his kissing. So, I'm willing to let him kiss me again."

Sigrun laughed.

* * *

She still thought about it, of course. Her dead friends ( _Varlan_ ), their corpses strewn around Kal'Hirol. Mischa, burned to a crisp in Amaranthine. The dead guards. Her one chance at redemption, of returning to the Stone. She was supposed to fight in the Deep Roads until she succumbed. She was supposed to die.

Justice asked once why she sought death when she could not go to the Fade. Was the Stone like the Fade? He understood better when she put it in terms of needing to complete her duty, but he still cautioned her not to let that overwhelm her duties as a Grey Warden. Still, he came the closest to understanding. Velanna said she understood the need to uphold tradition but she was still unsure why she had to fight darkspawn underground and not as a Warden. Nathaniel, similarly, thought that if being a Warden was an honour for a dwarf, presumably it erased the wrongs done previously – of course, he didn't realise that Natia was the _only_ casteless dwarf in centuries to make it. Anders flat out told her he didn't understand.

And Oghren, who had come from Orzammar, who knew their people and their lives, just shrugged and said, "Funny thing facing the Archdemon with Natia. Makes you think those damn traditions could do with re-writing. Bhelen's an ass but he's right about that."

It didn't matter. Every time she made up her mind to stop putting it off and _leave,_ Evelien would find _something_ she needed her to do, and sometimes one of the others asked a favour of her, and she owed them all so much that…

Soon. She would stop being a disgrace soon.

* * *

And then one evening, Anders said, "I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?" asked Nathaniel.

"No," Anders said. "I'm _leaving_. I've been asked to speak to the Circle about the Architect and once that's done, I'll move on. It's been lovely, really, it has. But I don't want to die without enjoying some of this new-found freedom." He looked around their dismayed faces. "I'll come back to visit. But can anyone really see me as a Warden forever? Five years has taught me that I don't look good in grey."

Velanna scowled. "Just like a shemlen to run out on duty."

Anders sighed. "Velanna…"

"Go, if that's what you want. We don't need cowardly-"

Nathaniel placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're brothers," he said to Anders. "You've done fine with us. And who will teach the mages now?"

"Are you saying I can't teach?" said Velanna.

Justice, meanwhile, said, "Your duty is with us. How can you consider this to be the right thing?"

But Oghren said, "If Sparklefingers wants to leave, let him. We don't need prissy little mages." He peered at the mage. "How'd the Commander take it?"

"Said it was my decision, and she understood. She said she'd been surprised I'd stayed as long as I have. So, she's OK, I think." He looked at Sigrun. "Any thoughts?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I can't call someone out on running away. But…" She scuffed the floor with her shoe. "I'll miss you."

Anders blinked. His cheeks turned pink, and he knelt on the floor with his arms wide open. "Come here, you irritating little dwarf."

She hugged him. "Idiot mage."

They laughed but she felt hollow. Because if Evelien allowed _Anders_ to leave – Anders who was the _first_ person she'd conscripted into the Wardens here, who'd been with her literally from the start – then maybe they would all leave. Maybe _she_ should…

She stepped back as Oghren came to clap his back and insult him some more, and thought about the packed bags in her room.

* * *

There was a strange noise as she walked past the Commander's office, on her way to the pantry for a midnight snack. It was something like gasping, and high pitched and-

She opened the door. "Commander?"

"Don't-"

But it was too late: she'd already seen the tears streaming down Evelien's face. Immediately, she closed the door behind her and went to the elf. After a second, she put her arms around her, and was a little surprised when Evelien hugged back, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

Sigrun had never been good with crying people. She patted the Commander's back a few times, feeling somewhat useless. But eventually, Evelien sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking younger than usual. Not for the first time, Sigrun wondered how old Evelien actually was.

"I'm sorry," Evelien said. Her Orlesian accent, usually so mild, came out stronger than normal. "I had not realised anyone was still up."

"That's OK," Sigrun said. "Do you … want to talk about it?"

Evelien wiped her eyes again. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm being silly, really."

"Evelien?"

She sighed. "It's a lot of things. It will take so _long_ for Amaranthine to be rebuilt, and all these Fereldens oppose me every step of the way, because I'm Orlesian and an elf and because I ordered Amaranthine's destruction to stop this blasted arling being overrun by darkspawn, and they act as though I _enjoyed_ giving that order. I want to see my family again, even more than usual. And now Anders…"

"Ah," said Sigrun, realising what had triggered the tears. She. "He said you were fine with it."

"What was I supposed to say? I forced him to join us. I _could_ have let him go after saving him from the templars. But I needed Wardens. And the King was there and…" She sighed. "To be a Grey Warden is to put defeating the darkspawn above all else. We cannot care about a few lives if more are at stake. We cannot be political. _This_ is why we should not be put in charge of arlings." She bit her lip. Sigrun tried not to stare. She had _never_ seen Evelien like this. "Anders stayed for so long, I thought… But no. I was just another captor to him. I suppose I am mainly surprised that he left before you, Velanna or Justice."

That stung but it wasn't undeserved. She thought back to Anders earlier that evening. "I don't think he thought of you as a captor," she said. "He seemed sad to be leaving us. He promised to visit." She hesitated. "You're a good commander," she said. "The _best_ commander. We all know it."

"Natia Brosca would not have destroyed Amaranthine. Nor would you."

"We're both dusters, and criminals at that. Giving up-"

"I'm an alienage elf, recruited into the Wardens seconds before the noose around my neck could tighten. So."

Evelien blinked and looked away, so Sigrun did not question it. She had wondered, of course. A couple of years ago, a recruit who had spent time in Orlais had said that she'd thought Evelien had been a criminal, because her facial tattoos seemed to cover up what might have been a brand given to very dangerous Orlesian criminals. Velanna had confirmed her tattoos weren't vallaslin. But nobody had known how to ask, and so it had been a theory only.

"You had to make a hard decision," she said instead. "Maybe what me and Natia would have done would have been worse. But you're still a good commander. You keep a cool head, and you're good at sorting out all these problems people bring you. You never try to make other people make the hard decisions."

Evelien blushed. "Thanks, Sigrun. You are always so positive about things." She sighed. "I just … I _want_ to do a good job but…"

"You don't have to be perfect," Sigrun said. "We trust you."

On impulse, Sigrun hugged her. The elf relaxed against her before sitting back. But Sigrun kept an arm around her, and, after a second, Evelien contorted herself so that her head lay on the dwarf's shoulder. It was another new thing – while Evelien would often place a friendly hand on someone's shoulder, or kiss their cheeks in greeting, she was careful to maintain a distance between herself and her subordinates. But looking at her now, Sigrun thought she needed friendly contact more than propriety. She _had_ mentioned missing her family – Sigrun hadn't realised she had one – and maybe this would help.

If anyone came in now, she thought as Evelien's eyes closed, they would almost certainly get the wrong idea. But as the Commander's body relaxed, Sigrun decided she could live with the rumours, if any began.


	2. Important and Urgent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably shouldn't be amused by how few readers this has but for some reason, I am. Probably because I've no intention of becoming a professional fanfic writer. If you've come this far, hello and enjoy! If not … ECHO!

Rumours began. The problem, Sigrun mused later, was that Evelien was important enough to warrant servants cleaning her office: she had eventually fallen asleep against Sigrun, so the dwarf had gone to sleep as well. Unfortunately, they were found by a maid with a duster. She'd tried to explain that it wasn't what it looked like, and the maid had murmured, _of course, of course_ but by midday, everyone in the Keep knew that Sigrun and Evelien had been found together; and by evening, the reference to 'sleeping together' had been taken entirely out of context.

At separate points, Nathaniel, Oghren, Justice and Velanna each confronted her in their own ways. Justice was the easiest – he was just curious and took her explanation at face value. Oghren, weirdly, was also easy because he found the idea erotic – she just rolled her eyes and told him he would never, in a million years, see them together, which seemed to be the response he was expecting anyway. Velanna and Nathaniel were clearly less certain.

Evelien did not comment on the rumours but she became more distant. She gave orders, made sure things were running, but didn't walk around the Keep to chat to everyone. She didn't come down for dinner. She didn't discuss new ideas she'd had. She just … maintained everything. When Sigrun tried to speak to her, she was politely professional, but that was it. Even Velanna seemed spooked.

"Must be nice for you though," Oghren said.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Commander's always got you running around fixing everything. Nothing needs doing now."

Her mind immediately went to the bags near her bed. But then she thought of Evelien, sobbing at her desk.

"Oghren," she said, "maybe one evening this week, you could speak to Evelien."

"About what?"

"Anything."

He shrugged. "Alright." He belched. "I reckon a good spear polishing will help her feel better, if you're not doing it."

"…Anything _except_ that."

* * *

She made the same request of Nathaniel, who also agreed. That evening, she went to Evelien's office herself. As always, the elf sat behind her desk and regarded Sigrun calmly.

"How can I help?"

"People don't mind, you know," she blurted out.

"What?"

Now, Sigrun blushed. "I've told people we're just friends and we fell asleep. Some people don't believe me and say it's favouritism or something but a lot say it would be nice, for you to _have_ someone." She hesitated. "Not me. I'm not saying that. But locking yourself away in here just makes everyone worry. They think I've dumped you."

Evelien sighed, fingers playing with her one earring. She wasn't the vulnerable woman Sigrun had seen the other evening, but she wasn't the stoic commander either. "Sigrun, I _cannot_ have relations with my Wardens. Especially not as the Orlesian elf commander here on sufferance of the Ferelden king."

"Good thing you're not _having_ relations with me then," Sigrun said. "We fell asleep at a desk. I don't even know if you favour women and you … know about me." She stepped closer. "I know it all seems bad but I meant what I said. You're doing a good job." Then, more softly, "Please. I'm worried about you. We all are."

"Thank you," Evelien said. "But there is no need. I'm just behind on work and … lax in my professionalism." She hesitated. "But can I check: you are not intending to seek out the Deep Roads, as you always say?"

"I have something important and urgent to do here," Sigrun said, looking pointedly at the elf.

Evelien's eyes widened. A faint tinge of pink rose in her tattooed cheeks. "Sigrun…"

"Also, I've set Oghren on you. Sorry."

A laugh escaped Evelien's lips. "He definitely thinks I favour men."

"He thinks _every_ woman favours men. Maybe be glad it wasn't him you fell asleep with."

"Sigrun," Evelien said. Something in her face softened. "Thank you. You … are a true friend."

Sigrun blushed fiercely.

* * *

She went back the following evening, carrying a mug of tea and some food she had stolen from the kitchen. Evelien looked up when she came in.

"Sigrun?"

Sigrun thrust the tea at her albeit slowly. She'd tripped over one of the many Keep cats on the way and some of it had spilled on her. "It tastes like apple," she said. "Velanna says elves like all fruit."

Evelien sniffed the tea. "I think she's extrapolating but I do like apples. Thanks, Sigrun." She saw the plate of food. "What's that?"

"Your dinner. Cook said you haven't eaten anything. It's not healthy. If you're going to stay tall, you need to eat."

She could see the laughter she loved so much in Evelien's eyes. "That is very true. I try not to skip meals. It's a bad habit."

Sigrun shrugged as Evelien reached for the plate. "That was one thing I liked about the Legion. They fed us loads. Three times a day. Made a change from having to steal or lie on my back for it."

Evelien froze, bread halfway to her mouth. "I thought you said you were never a noble hunter."

"Huh? Oh. I wasn't. Girls like me don't make good noble hunters. But when you need a bit of coin, a lot of non-noble people don't care what their whore looks or acts like, as long as she pretends to be enthusiastic." She shrugged. "I didn't do it that often, just when I needed to." Evelien didn't say anything. "I … was never much into … _that_ … even before I lay on my back for coin. You know, when it was just meant to be for fun. I don't hate it, I just don't … feel like there's anything great about it."

The bread still hadn't made it to the Commander's mouth but her other hand reached out to touch Sigrun's. "I didn't know," she said softly.

"Why would you? It's not like I go around telling everyone I used to be a whore, as well as a thief and a murderer. Besides, it's not embarrassing, in Dust Town. Loads of people there have whored themselves out at least once. Men _and_ women."

Evelien kept watching her. "I wish I had your resilience."

"You do, don't you?"

"I don't think so. You have a love for life that I can only envy, given the life you've led."

"There's no point moping," Sigrun said, feeling somewhere between flattered and guilty and awkward. "Things don't get better if you think about how bad they are."

"No," Evelien said. She finally bit into the bread and then smiled at Sigrun. "What's the best meal you've had on the surface?"

"Lamb stew," Sigrun said instantly. "Except I didn't like Nathaniel showing me what lambs looked like. They look so fluffy and cute. But they taste _really_ good. Though most things taste good compared to nugs, I guess. Do they have lamb stew in Orlais?"

Evelien told her about Orlesian cuisine, now eating her own dinner with gusto. It took Sigrun a while to realise that Evelien's hand was still on top of hers.

* * *

The combined efforts of Sigrun, Oghren and Nathaniel seemed to have a positive effect on Evelien. Even Velanna and Justice got in on the act, as did a few of the other Wardens. Sigrun never found out what Oghren and Nathaniel said to Evelien in their evening chats, but Evelien's normal personality started to return. She spent less time in her office. She ate dinner with them all again. She tackled the problem of rebuilding Amaranthine with renewed vigour.

One evening, she handed Sigrun a book. She'd done that sort of thing often over the years, but it was the first gift she'd seen Evelien give since Anders had left.

The dwarf inspected the cover. " _Dragons and Damsels_. Sounds interesting." She flicked through the pages to see that it contained tales of, unsurprisingly, dragons. "It'd be nice to see a dragon. Are they really as big as mountains? Can we catch one, like we did with the cats?"

Evelien smiled. "Funny you should say that. I've heard rumours of a dragon attacking farms and I very much need someone to go. I'm sorry to ask you but…"

Sigrun grinned back. "I'll just have to hurl myself extra hard at the dragon. Unless we can keep it?"

"Do you want to cross-breed the dragon with a cat?"

" _Can we_? Oh, but I suppose a cat-dragon with claws that can breathe fire might be a bad idea."

Evelien laughed, and everything was back to normal.

* * *

When Anders returned, two months after he'd left, everyone was sat in the main hall. He looked a little sheepish as he said that actually, lots of men and women thought grey was a very fetching colour on him, and he wouldn't mind re-joining, if his job was still available. Everyone was silent as they looked between the mage and the Commander.

Evelien stood, walked over to him and hugged him tightly.

"Welcome home," she said, and the room burst into cheers.

* * *

"You see," Sigrun said later, curled up on Evelien's sofa. "Anders never hated you."

Evelien was next to her, almost touching. Over the past couple of months, they'd gotten into the habit of spending some evenings chatting on the sofa. "Are you going to gloat?" she said.

"A little. But then I'm going to box his ears."

"Please don't injure my Wardens."

"He's got magic. He can defend himself."

"You resist magic."

Sigrun just grinned.

* * *

Over the next couple of years, life seemed to return to normal. The Keep had become almost a city in itself, with the nearby settlements growing and merchants setting up shop. The human army was becoming infamous, while the Wardens had sent scholars to study the battle of Vigil's Keep. Amaranthine was starting to resemble _something_ though nobody much liked going there, and despite the public's general low opinion of the Wardens, they managed to find a few new recruits.

(It had been years but she still looked for a sign of Mischa. Just in case.)

She still thought about her Calling. In some of her quiet moments – though those were few and far between – she remembered Varlan and her other companions in Kal'Hirol, the traditions of her ancestors, and wondered why she was still on the surface and away from the Stone. Her job wasn't to save these surfacers – it was to fight the darkspawn in the Deep Roads until she succumbed. She'd heard that the Legion of the Dead was being rebuilt and part of her whispered that she should be there with them.

It was while she was thinking this that Evelien came to her and said, "I have something I need you to do, but it's going to take a while, I'm afraid."

"OK," said Sigrun. "What is it?"

"I need to send a delegation to attend the court in Denerim for the anniversary. Oghren is going so he can stop near Lake Calenhad and see his daughter. I want you to go with him."

"Why? Nathaniel is better at these things." She paused. "So are you."

"Yes, well, Nathaniel is banned from all interactions with the King and the Ferelden nobles."

Sigrun frowned. "Is this because of the whole owning land thing?"

Evelien sighed, frustrated. "The Wardens having land is dicey enough. Do you know how many nobles I've had to placate? I know Cousland is grateful but couldn't he have just kept his land?"

Sigrun grinned. Teryn Cousland had gifted land to Nathaniel after Nathaniel had saved him from bandits. Nathaniel, to his credit, had eventually gifted it to his sister and nephew, but that hadn't stopped people thinking the Wardens were trying to win more land. The arguments between Evelien and Nathaniel about the land had been heard all over the Keep for a week.

"But you've _told_ them, and he doesn't have the land anymore. So, why-"

"Maybe _Cousland_ is happy to let bygones be bygones but I don't think the King is. He hates Nathaniel's father. Ask Oghren what he did when he was offered the chance to extend mercy to Loghain Mac Tir."

"Who?"

"Never mind. He's banned, and I am sick of explaining the whole thing to nobles. They hate me anyway and seeing me only reminds them that I am inferior to Natia Brosca. And…" She hesitated. "Orzammar has invited us to _their_ memorial and it would make sense for you two to continue the trip. Especially as you're both dwarves."

"I see." She nodded. "I can do that. Bhelen is apparently a dictator so it will be like facing darkspawn."

"That's the spirit." Evelien looked Sigrun up and down, then, to her surprise, placed her hands on her shoulders. "Sigrun," she said quietly. "Come back. Please."

She swallowed. "I … of course." She looked at Evelien. That was perhaps the biggest change over the past two years. Ever since Anders leaving and returning, Evelien had started to discuss more of her problems and everyday life with Sigrun. They could often be found sitting together in the evenings, sharing a drink and talking about the Keep, and books, and strange customs of Orlais and Orzammar, and what they'd both found odd about Ferelden. Evelien never talked about her life prior to joining the Wardens or at the start of her time there, and Sigrun tended to shy away from her life in the Carta, but it didn't matter. Evelien seemed to enjoy introducing Sigrun to delights on the surface that she might not have experienced previously, and Sigrun liked embarking on new hobbies with Evelien. The fact that Evelien also spent some evenings with Nathaniel, Oghren and Anders, and occasionally with Justice and Velanna did not, however, prevent the rumours that there was something going on between them. "I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

She put a hand on her shoulder, over one of Evelien's hands, and squeezed slightly. Evelien smiled and let go.

* * *

The trip to Denerim and Lake Calenhad was uneventful. They got through the ceremony with minimal fuss, and less booing than the previous year. Afterwards, they updated the King on Amaranthine. It helped that Oghren was friends with him, because it meant Sigrun could stay quiet. She _did_ have to assure Felsi that she was not sleeping with Oghren, and step in multiple times to prevent Felsi throwing things _at_ Oghren, but she'd been prepared for that. Weirdly, Felsi's behaviour seemed to be _attractive_ to Oghren, and eventually she left them alone. At least he was unlikely to father another child.

Similarly, the ceremony in Orzammar passed peacefully enough. It was strange, being back in the city after so long – Evelien had taken steps to prevent Sigrun from returning and being so close to things that might remind her of the Legion of the Dead. Much of it had changed – more warriors patrolled the streets; more brands carried weapons and respect; nobles were less revered. Dwarves seemed unnerved by her in a way they were not by Oghren – she assumed because of her facial tattoos. She was surprised that less dwarves insulted her than before, though she still got noticeably less respect than Oghren.

(Kal'Hirol had been reclaimed. She didn't know how she felt about that. She should have been there. She should have died.)

They were only there for a few days. After the pomp and formality – she let Oghren do the talking because what was she supposed to say to _nobles_? – she went to Dust Town. Even there, things had changed: the air was less cloying; the streets were cleaner; a few proper shops had sprung up. She found herself walking first to her mother's old shack, and then to her uncle's. As she stood outside his door, she hesitated. As far as her uncle and cousins were concerned, she was dead. What would she say to them? That she'd forsaken her duty? That she'd followed Natia Brosca's footsteps, fought the Architect and the Mother, and was one of the most senior Wardens in Ferelden? That she'd let a whole city burn? That she had a home and friends but no Stone sense? Her uncle had made it clear that she was trouble and no longer part of his family. Would he believe she had changed? Would he want a dwarf too cowardly to _die_ to come back?

She left the coins and the scribbled _Sorry_ she'd prepared under the door, then turned and walked away.

It took everything she had not to keep going to the Deep Roads.

(She tried to find Varlan's family too, but they were _nobles_ and she never did find out why he'd joined the Legion. She didn't know what she would say to them either. He had died when he joined the Legion, same as she had. And when they looked at her, they wouldn't see his best friend. They would see a coward, who fled her duty. They would see a duster whore and probably think their relationship was something it wasn't. They would see a brand pickpocket.

That time, she got as far as the entrance of the Deep Roads, fingers twisting Varlan's ring compulsively, before she made herself turn around.)

On the final day, as she walked around the Diamond Quarter, simply because she _could_ , she saw Oghren and Rica Brosca at the steps of the palace. He clasped her shoulder then walked away. Curious, Sigrun fell into step beside him.

"Do you _know_ Rica Brosca?"

Oghren looked a little sheepish. "I thought Natia would want me to check on the little one. Little ones: they've popped out another one. Named after her." He didn't look at her. "She loved the little nug. Only got to meet him once. And we don't know if Leliana … she's been here recently apparently, but we don't hear from her much."

"Leliana who wrote _The Ballad of Brosca_?"

"Aye. Well. They _were_ lovers. Very loud in camp sometimes." He grinned lecherously and Sigrun sighed. But then he sobered. "I don't know all the details but she claimed Alistair _could_ have saved Natia's life, if he'd agreed to something dangerous. She's never forgiven him. Not sure he's forgiven himself, to be honest. Rica lets her come down, see the little ones. But doesn't hurt, right? Two of us checking."

"No," Sigrun said softly. "It doesn't." She paused. "Isn't your daughter also called Natia?"

He shrugged. "Girl was a damn hero. Found my Branka for me. Helped me with Felsi, gave me a purpose. Reckon lots of little dwarven girls will be called Natia for a while but … it was the least…" He sighed. "She was a good friend, even if she wasn't the best person."

She looked at him curiously. He'd told her a lot of stories about Natia Brosca – tales of heroism, pranks, and sacrifice. He'd mentioned a few of her morally dubious qualities but those were few and far between. Nobody spoke badly of Natia Brosca.

He shrugged again and took a swig from the canteen at his belt. "Been doing her a disservice really. We all agreed, we'd be honest about her. But then you look at that statue and…" He glanced to the right. "I need a drink."

* * *

They went to the nearest tavern, and as they got drunker and drunker, Oghren told her about Natia Brosca. Everyone knew about the dwarf's determination, her heroism, her taking command of the armies of Ferelden, even her compassion. But Oghren told her of a young woman who had bickered with her companions, played pranks on people, and gotten involved in assassinations, break-ins and thefts. She'd fought a demon, knowing to do so would cause the death of a child. She'd disregarded feelings when chasing after what she thought needed to be done. She'd been stupidly reckless sometimes, and often fought her way out of situations. She'd made the King a king against his will. Her best friend had betrayed her in Dust Town and she'd killed him. She was terrible at talking about her own feelings, but she'd gone out of her way to help every single one of her friends.

"And," Oghren said quietly, "the way she looked at Leliana. If it weren't for that archdemon, probably be married with fifteen kids by now."

"Must be nice, to have that kind of love."

"Aye," Oghren said. "But you love too much, you end up like her – dragon feed." He sighed. "I told the Commander, stop trying to be Natia Brosca. World doesn't need heroes who die like that. Can't do much for the world once you're dead, can you?"

"Yeah," Sigrun said. "I think she cares too much too."

"Ah, maybe it's what makes the really great Wardens great. But I reckon, they shine so bright, everyone else ends up lost in darkness." He clapped her shoulder. "Whatever you and the boss got going on, you remember that."

"We're not-"

"All I'm saying is, I saw Natia with everyone. And I saw us all afterwards, and I saw Leliana. Don't want it happening to you too."

Despite herself, despite everything she'd ever said to him, she hugged him. He seemed taken aback, and then patted her back a few times before letting go. Then they bought another round.

* * *

When they returned, they found an air of sadness cast over Vigil's Keep.

"Justice has gone," Nathaniel explained quietly. "He got a letter from Aura saying she couldn't keep doing this and he … left. Kristoff's body's been buried."

"Ah well. He had a decent life," Oghren said. "Seeing how he was already dead."

"How's Evelien?" Sigrun asked, trying to ignore the pang in her chest.

"As you'd expect," Nathaniel said in his serious way. "Saying she's fine, and she's glad Justice had been so happy before he left but…" Nathaniel looked around. "I've spent some evenings with her but I think it would be helpful if you would attend her. She … talks to you. More than to us."

"I will," she said. She tried not to think of Justice just … leaving. She knew he didn't regard things the same way the living did. She knew he'd tried to live the life he'd thought Kristoff would have lived, while curing as many injustices as he could. He'd told her of death, and of the Fade. He'd chastised her for stealing but saved her life on countless occasions. He'd been fascinated by human things, and they'd indulged curiosities in surfacer things together.

Nathaniel clapped her shoulder as she set off in search of Evelien. As she passed through the corridors, she saw Anders and Velanna, both of whom came over to talk about Justice, and about her trip to Denerim and Orzammar.

"Did they treat you correctly?" asked Velanna. "Those idiot dwarves in Orzammar, I mean."

"Kind of," Sigrun said. Velanna's eyes flashed, and warmth flooded her. "They were better than I expected. I'll catch you up later. Have you seen Evelien?"

The pair traded knowing looks. Anders said she had headed towards the crypt, which was a weird location but then, Evelien went to weird places sometimes. So, Sigrun turned around and headed back outside, into the crypt.

As Anders had said, Evelien was there, clothes dusty as though she'd been checking the Deep Roads entrances. When she saw Sigrun, she froze. It occurred to Sigrun that Evelien might misconstrue why the dwarf had come down here.

But then the elf was in front of her, arms wrapped tightly around her. Sigrun let herself hug back. When they parted, she looked up at Evelien, and was startled to see a mixture of relief and terror in her eyes.

Stupidly, she said, "You didn't think I was coming back, did you?"

For seconds, Evelien said nothing.

Then.

"I thought you would. But. I was not sure. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

Sigrun swallowed. "I never had someone want me to come back before. Other than my mother and Varlan. It's nice actually." She smiled slightly, fingertips touching on Varlan's ring. "I nearly went but who would have gotten Oghren away from all the beautiful women?"

Evelien laughed. "I suspect you probably got into many drunken incidents together."

"Only three." She hesitated. "Evelien, I'm sorry about … Nathaniel told me, about Justice. I'm sorry."

"Yes, well. I suppose it was only a matter of time. You cannot keep a corpse going forever."

"He was a good … spirit, I suppose." She thought of what Oghren had told her, about how Natia Brosca's friends had made a pact to talk about the dwarf, good and bad. "Remember when we investigated that fight in that village and he started trying to sort out all the adulterers?"

She smiled. "I thought his eyes might pop out of his head when we realised one was a bigamist."

"He couldn't work out which wife was treated more unjustly. He kept me up all night, talking about it." She sat, despite the dust on the floor. "I told him there were worse things than sleeping around with people, and he made me list them. It was quite interesting actually. We thought murder was less bad than rape but it was a narrow one."

Evelien sat as well. "He liked to set the world to order, didn't he? Whenever we passed a Chantry, he made them tell him about how to cleanse sins. He seemed put out that their version didn't involve executions."

"I think it _still_ annoyed him that Velanna wasn't arrested for the Wending Wood. Velanna liked winding him up about it. Even Nathaniel thought it was pretty funny."

Evelien smiled again. "He thought I was trying to reform you all. He came in one day to debate whether reform works with me. And do you remember when we dealt with those raids, but he took the thieves' side? I ended up making him explain to the nobles why we were arresting the landowner. I thought they would have a fit." She paused. "And I wonder why they do not like me."

Sigrun laughed and settled down as Evelien thought of another amusing anecdote about Justice. She had a feeling they might be there a while.

* * *

Later, much later, as they'd drifted into general conversation Sigrun said, "I tried to see my uncle."

"And? How did it go?"

"It didn't. Same with Varlan's family. I'm still a coward."

"You're not."

"I am. It was just going back. You'd think, after everything I've done, it would be easy." She twisted the ring on her finger. "I was even scared someone from House Vollney would see the ring and accuse me of stealing it." She sighed. "I thought it might be nice to go back but…"

"I will not send you again," Evelien said softly. They were leaning against a wall, shoulder to shoulder. "I did not think about how different it would be for you than for Oghren. I'm sorry."

"It had to be done." She sighed. "I wish I could be more like you. I bet you've never fled from anything in your life."

Evelien was quiet for a long time. "If I don't flee it … is not always for healthy reasons."

Sigrun peeked at her face. "Evelien?"

"Forget I said anything. I … recently, I feel I am scared more and more. Not of death. I haven't feared death for years. But other things … they scare me. But I think it is perhaps a good thing." A smile glimmered on her face. "Fear tells me I have things worth losing." She turned her head to look at Sigrun. "I think you were scared of being told you're worthless. But if they think you're worthless, it's only because they do not recognise true wealth when they have it."

The dwarf blushed. "Thanks, Evelien."

"Justice thought you had an admirable character." Her voice cracked slightly. "He was good at seeing people's true values."

"He did stick with you."

Beneath the tattoos, Sigrun could see the elf's cheeks tinge pink. Evelien looked over at her. "Sigrun?"

"Yeah?"

"I … I am glad you're home."

Sigrun thought of what Oghren had said, about how caring too much just made you dead. How Natia Brosca _could_ have been saved if she'd cared a little less about everyone else.

And she looked at Evelien, who had saved her life, who'd introduced the surface world to her, who had found Mischa for her, who cared _so much_ about doing the right thing, who always…

Hesitantly, she leaned her head against Evelien's shoulder and was rewarded with an arm curling around her shoulders. This kind of touching had become more common between them in the past year, and Sigrun found she quite liked it.

"Yeah," Sigrun said as slim fingers tucked stray hair behind her ears. "Me too."

* * *

After two more years, Nathaniel and Velanna finally decided to marry. Velanna seemed aghast at herself for agreeing, sure she was shaming her clan, her ancestors, everyone. Never mind that she clearly loved him. Nathaniel's cool head worked with Velanna's passionate response to everything. He liked to hear her stories; she was curious about his making practical things. They both had serious discussions, and he was good at knocking her off balance in their conversations.

In the run up to the wedding, Sigrun found herself being asked to do all sorts of wedding-related errands. Locating an officiator who wouldn't annoy Velanna. Organising the army of cleaners for the Keep. Finding entertainment that wouldn't annoy Nathaniel. Helping with food tasting. Trying to work out what to do with the Keep's _many_ cats. Decorating the chapel.

"You realise," she said to Evelien as she strung up bunting, trying to dissuade a nearby cat from clawing it down again, "that this isn't exactly a Warden's job?"

Evelien shrugged. "It is important and urgent. Nobody wants to hear Velanna in a bad mood. Besides, you are enjoying yourself." She shot Sigrun a smile, and Sigrun smiled back.

Anders looked over at them. "I'm glad someone is," he said. "This isn't what the Circle trained me for."

"You shouldn't have kept escaping then, should you?" said Evelien.

"Just do what I do, lad," Oghren advised.

"What's that? Drink?"

"No. When nobody's looking, draw lots of pictures of d-"

" _Oghren_ ," said Evelien, finally seeing what Oghren was doing. Sigrun and Anders sniggered.

"You know," Sigrun said as she tied a knot in the string, "I like these decorations. We never had anything like this in Dust Town. It's all very dark down there."

Anders grinned and shot some colourful sparkles from his fingers. "We're all about the colour. In fact, people shout _very_ colourful things at me."

"Aren't those curses?" Sigrun paused. "The one we heard the other day. Can humans _really_ do all those things?"

"Not all at once," Evelien told her. Anders pouted.

"Don't look so glum," Oghren said. "She never said they were impossible."

"That's true," Anders said, perking up. "Maybe I'll try them tonight. I just need two jars of fish oil."

"What for?" asked Sigrun curiously. Anders opened his mouth and Evelien leaped on him, putting a hand over it. He laughed. "What?" asked Sigrun.

Evelien laughed as Anders made a muffled protest. "I will find you a book later."

"OK," said Sigrun. "But I'm holding you to that."

* * *

("Oh. _Oh_."

"Yes."

"I think that must be a human thing."

"Hmm."

"…You're not saying _you've_ -"

"That is a personal question."

"I did not need that image in my head."

"I imagine if you asked Oghren-"

"I did not need _that_ image either. You don't think Nathaniel and Velanna…"

"You're not to ask them."

"I'm not going to. Huh. Maybe I should-"

"I … doubt you'd enjoy it, from what you've told me."

"But is it a _common_ thing? I mean-"

("You know," Anders commented to Oghren, as they watched with amusement, "I had no idea the Commander could be so evil. Do you think we should tell Sigrun it's impossible?"

"Later," Oghren said. He chuckled. "This is good material."

Anders looked at him and sighed. "I don't want to know."))

* * *

The Wardens made Velanna and Nathaniel have parties on the night before their weddings. To Sigrun's surprise, Evelien was invited to Velanna's. Despite the years, the fact that Seranni had never been found had remained a constant source of friction between them. Even here, Velanna was somewhat abrasive towards Evelien, who left relatively early.

Later, when most people had gone to bed, Velanna looked at her mug and said, "I'm sorry. About the Commander."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"You don't apologise often."

Velanna snorted. "Well. I am." She still didn't look at Sigrun. "I miss my sister. She should have been here."

"I know. But it wasn't-"

"The Architect _had_ her. She … I will never give up on her. I _will_ find her."

"We're looking too," Sigrun said, though it was only partially true. She knew most Wardens thought Seranni was likely dead. "She must be looking for you too." Another partial lie, Sigrun suspected.

"Do you think she would be proud?"

Velanna might have become a Warden to find her sister, but she'd never shirked her duty. She'd never fully trusted humans – despite being about to _marry_ one – but she'd always run into combat, ready to fight the darkspawn. She'd taught the elves their histories, and the mages their magic. Whatever doubts they'd all had when they first met her, they'd mostly been eliminated. If a Blight were to occur tomorrow…

"Yes," Sigrun said. "Definitely."

* * *

(Evelien, for her part, had been her normal calm and understanding self. But Sigrun knew better. She went to Evelien's room, and was unsurprised to find her still awake, eyes red and fists clenching and unclenching. Wordlessly, she sat next to her and put an arm around her, breathing in her familiar smell as the elf moved so her head was on Sigrun's shoulder, her arms at her waist for balance.

"I've taken away Velanna's life," she whispered. "She joined to find her sister. And I got her killed."

She was sort of used to Evelien's amazing ability to feel guilt. "They both made their choices," she said, letting fingers on her spare hand stroke through Evelien's hair, knowing that sometimes calmed her. "And Seranni might not be dead."

"I wish I could believe that."

It was a long night with no easy answers, but Sigrun didn't regret it, despite the headache she had the next day.

At least they both looked happy during the wedding itself.)

* * *

A couple of years later, Rica Brosca came on behalf of Orzammar to the Grey Wardens. They all stood in rows as Rica made a presentation to Evelien, and discussed the treaties and expeditions to the Deep Roads. There were plenty of dwarven guards there, and also a boy, maybe eleven or twelve, with Rica's red hair. The boy kept peering curiously at her – presumably, he'd never seen a Legionnaire before.

Once the ceremony was over, the boy came up to her. He still seemed fascinated by her tattoos.

"Your Highness, I take it?" Sigrun said.

The boy jerked, then bowed. "I'm Prince Endrin Aeducan," he said. He glanced behind him but his mother was talking to Oghren now. "Are you really Sigrun?"

"What?"

He blushed. "Are you … everyone says there's a duster Warden who saved everyone."

"I think you're mixing me up with your aunt."

He shook his head. "Not Aunt Natia. I know about _her_. Everyone says there's another one, a Legionnaire. You fought a monster broodmother. Mother says, because of you, loads of duster girls join the army." He grinned conspiratorially. "Father lets me train with them when Mother isn't watching. Says we can learn a lot from each other. Nika said she saw you a few years ago in Orzammar. She says when she's old enough, she'll join the Wardens too."

Sigrun stared at him. "They … talk about me?"

He nodded. "You're a hero, just like my aunt."

" _Endrin_. Don't bother the Wardens."

Endrin sobered. He turned and bowed to his mother. "I'm sorry, Mother." He hesitated. "But it's _Sigrun_."

"Your Majesty. I … he knows I fled at Kal'Hirol?"

"According to Oghren, it was a tactical retreat," the Queen said, smiling. When Sigrun opened her mouth, she said, "You don't think you've redeemed yourself? I understand you've saved countless people."

"Majesty, you know our customs. Legally, I'm dead. Nothing I've done since-"

"So, it's a long death." Rica shook her head. "When I met you, I told you to be an example. My sister … she was a Paragon. A hero. But a light that shines that brightly – how do you follow it without being blinded? _You_ have shown everyone that she wasn't a one-off. Any of us can be a hero. Any of us are as worthy as Bhelen and I have always said. My son – my _noble son_ – makes friends with dusters and thinks caste is stupid. Because of Natia and Oghren and you." She put a hand on Sigrun's shoulder. "You fled your duty once. You have faced it a hundred times over. I only wish you could have met Natia. Between the two of you, the world wouldn't know what hit it."

"I … Majesty. I. Thanks. Thank you."

"Mother?" They both jumped and looked at Endrin, who had a look of endless patience on his face. "Can I get Sigrun's autograph now?"

The Queen covered a smile. "If that's OK with Sigrun."

"S-Sure."

* * *

Afterwards, Nathaniel said, "Did I see you giving out autographs?"

Sigrun blushed. "I think Rica Brosca has been telling her son about me."

"And you didn't think to point out the very handsome and heroic mage nearby?" Anders said.

"Velanna wasn't in sight."

Velanna smirked as Anders clutched a hand to his chest, staggering as though wounded.

Evelien came over with Oghren. She raised an eyebrow. "Should I ask?"

"We're just discussing Sigrun's celebrity," Nathaniel said.

Evelien raised her eyebrow again. "Oh, yes?"

Sigrun blushed even more. "Rica Brosca's son thinks I'm a hero and wanted my autograph. I'm not sure how he knew I could even write."

She couldn't miss the pleased spark in Evelien's eyes, the one that always made Sigrun feel warmly happy. "I see."

"Well, that's the last time I get the little nug a present," Oghren muttered. "I don't see anyone lining up for _my_ autograph."

"He's known you for much of his life," Evelien said. "That's better than an autograph."

"Aye. You're right." Oghren puffed his chest out. " _And_ he got a present from the famous Oghren."

Evelien placed a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed. "You should be proud of yourself. Rica was telling me about the various reforms in Orzammar. She said you joining the Wardens so soon after Natia has inspired a lot of people from Dust Town. And apparently there's talk of reforming the Legion of the Dead so people have an option to seek out the Wardens instead. Because of you."

"I … I don't know. I think-"

"You can be proud of yourself," Velanna said. "Just accept the honour your people are bestowing on you."

She thought of the bags by her bed, of Varlan and Jukka and all those she'd abandoned, of Mischa in Denerim.

And then she thought of Endrin Aeducan, telling her that duster girls were joining the army because of her. That Bhelen Aeducan used _her_ as an example.

Evelien's arm slipped around her shoulders in a rare display of open affection. "Be proud of yourself, Sigrun," she said quietly. "We are."

Everyone nodded. Sigrun couldn't help herself. She turned and buried her head in Evelien's chest as tears slipped down her cheeks. Evelien's arms slipped around her, and soon, others joined her, and she remembered, for the first time in a long time, what it felt like to have a family.


	3. One More Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still far too amused to stop. Also, I'd already written this so I figured, why not? This is the last part. Hope you all enjoy, and hope whoever's reading this is safe during these weird times!

Years passed and still there were important and urgent tasks to do. Sometimes, Sigrun was sure Evelien had kept a list tucked away in her desk, even if she swore no such thing had occurred.

True to Evelien's promise, and despite what Rica Brosca had said, she didn't return to Orzammar, though Oghren did. She did see the various corners of Ferelden however, and was constantly surprised at all the new things she could experience. She battled darkspawn on multiple occasions. She fought off bandits. She led patrols. She found new recruits and led prayers for the dead to a god she didn't believe in. She heard junior Wardens speak of her with awe, as they did with the others, for exploits she barely noticed – killing a whole pack of bandits alone; saving a caravan from a dragon; defeating an ogre with just one arm because she'd broken the other.

Vigil's Keep had turned into a hub of activity, and Amaranthine had taken on a noticeable shape. People were still sour about the Wardens, about Orlais, but they looked at her with respect now. Her friends, too, had reputations, and despite all of their differences, they were as close as they'd always been.

And Evelien, of course. She was still the calm, competent leader. She knew every Warden's name. She knew their likes and dislikes if she could help them in their personal lives, she did. Despite her seriousness and stoicism, she drank with them some evenings. She told jokes. One Warden jokingly referred to her as _Mother_ , and she laughed and said, of course, they were all her children.

"What does that make Sigrun?" someone asked.

"The grouchy auntie," Sigrun replied and everyone laughed. She locked eyes with the elf, who smiled gently. They had gotten weirdly good at communicating without words – a byproduct, Sigrun suspected, of the amount of time they spent together. Evelien definitely knew more about Sigrun than anyone else, and nobody else even pretended to know as much about Evelien as Sigrun did. Not that there weren't gaps in their knowledge, of course. Sigrun had never heard about Evelien's mysterious Orlesian family again, nor her past before the Wardens; Evelien knew little of some of Sigrun's worst moments, her uncle's family, the first time she'd stolen, the first time she'd lain on her back for money.

But it didn't matter. As time went on, it felt almost as though they were growing old together. And when she looked at them, they both seemed happy. She didn't know about herself, but she was glad for Evelien. For someone who worked as hard as she did, she deserved happiness.

* * *

But.

* * *

She'd just returned from fighting a darkspawn patrol near the Blackmarsh, and she was exhausted, when she noticed the weird mood in the Keep. Strangely sombre. The first person she passed was Anders, so she asked him what had happened. He looked embarrassed as he told her, which was unusual in itself because Anders wasn't bashful by nature.

When he was done, it took her a few seconds to make sense of it. And even then, all she could say was, "When did you hear?"

"A few days ago, maybe. I thought you might have already known."

"No," Sigrun said. "She … why didn't she tell us?"

"Maybe she only just found out?"

"For a trip like this? No. She's known for a while."

"Sigrun," Anders said awkwardly. "Are you…"

"I'm fine," Sigrun said. "I'm just fine."

* * *

She wasn't fine. She went that evening to Evelien's office. Perhaps Evelien had been expecting her. When she stormed in, the elf looked exhausted.

"Is it true?" Sigrun said.

Evelien could have asked what she meant, but she just said, "Yes."

"You … you're leaving us. To go to Weisshaupt. And you won't return."

"Yes." Evelien sighed. "I must go. I have heard it may be another Blight, already. There are only two Grey Wardens more senior than me. I should be among the first to sacrifice myself if the need arises."

It had never occurred to her, as the years went by, that Evelien might be _outlasting_ Wardens. That she would have been experienced when she started and that Evelien might now be one of the most senior Wardens in Thedas.

"And even if there is no Blight…" Evelien wrapped her arms around herself, looking suddenly alone and tired. "I get the nightmares, Sigrun. I hear the whispers. It … is time." Her eyes closed. "I'm so sorry. I will not last the year."

She took a step back, as though physically pushed. "Evelien…" Her jaw set. "I'll come with you. I'll face my Calling too."

Evelien looked up. " _No_."

"You always said-"

"Nathaniel needs you here."

"He has the others."

Evelien shook her head. "He needs you. He's a good man. Someone I am proud to call brother. But you see things differently to him, and you have equal experience commanding. If it were seemly, I would have asked you both to serve as Warden-Commander."

"My duty is down there, in the Deep Roads. I've done this for years but we _have_ a functioning force." She drew in breath. "My time was fifteen years ago. I … Rica Brosca absolved me but I still feel it. And if you go to the Blight then I want…"

She hated how vulnerable she sounded. Evelien's face softened. "I know how you feel, Sigrun. But I _need_ you here. _Please_."

"I-"

"I never told you how I joined the Wardens, did I?"

Sigrun hesitated. A memory of an argument from years before flitted back to her. "You said you were going to be executed."

Evelien raised an eyebrow. "I told you that? Was I drunk?"

"No. Upset."

"Ah." She rubbed her tattooed cheeks, one earring swinging slightly. "I know a couple of Wardens guessed. A couple of Orlesian Wardens rescued from the gallows have tattoos like mine, to cover the one you get when you're marked for execution." She dropped the hand. "It's a … standard story, I suppose. I grew up in the alienage in Val Royeaux. One day, we were having a … a gathering, I suppose. My parents were there. My brother. My sisters. My sister's husband. My aunt, my uncles, my cousins, my … Camille." She looked away. "I'd promised a friend I would leave something with them, so I slipped out halfway through to drop it off. When I left, everyone was happy. When I came back, they were dead."

"Ancestors, Evelien."

The elf didn't look at her. "I saw the shems that did it leaving. My father had bumped one the previous day, accidentally knocked something out of his hands. The shems thought that meant they could slaughter everyone. Even the cat. They killed the _cat_." Her fists were clenched. "So, I tracked them down, set traps, and killed them all. But the guards caught me and arrested me. They thought they would scare me with their taunting that I would hang but they didn't understand. I _wanted_ to die." She closed her eyes. Her body shook. Sigrun wondered when the last time she'd talked of this was. Perhaps never. "I got to the gallows," she said, eyes open again. "There was a big crowd, I remember that. My murders had gotten a lot of attention. I think it was some lord and his cronies I'd killed, and I'd been brutal. I remember, the hood went on, the noose settled around my neck and I closed my eyes. But then someone shouted to wait. The hood got taken off, and I saw the Empress."

"The empress? You mean _the_ Empress Celene?"

For the first time, there was a flicker of a smile on the elf's face. "Yes. I think I thought I'd died and was quite annoyed that the first thing I saw was her. But there she was. She'd been empress for a year or so then. I remember her peering at me and I stared back because I wanted it to be _over_.

"There was a man next to her. I didn't pay him much attention until she turned to him and said, 'If you need new Grey Wardens, there appears to be a fine recruit here.'

"The man inspected me. 'Perhaps. We do take murderers. But even so.'

"'It seems to me,' she said, 'that you need those who take on monsters and survive. Which makes this girl perfect, no?'

"The man raised an eyebrow. 'Those were men, Imperial Majesty.'

"'No,' she said. 'Those were monsters who slaughtered an elven family simply because they could.' She turned to me then. I remember being surprised at how adult she sounded – she was younger than me, and I was only eighteen then. 'Would you be willing to serve as a Grey Warden?'

"I knew of the Wardens – everyone knew of the Wardens – and maybe in another life, I'd have jumped at the chance. But I said, 'I want to join my family.'

"She leaned in closer to me. 'That would be a waste. Would they want you to die?'

"'No,' I said. 'But I don't care. I have nothing left.'

"Her gaze was sympathetic. 'When the darkspawn come, they will come for the alienages. Without Wardens invested in protecting them, the elves will die. _You_ can protect them. You say you have nothing left? This will save the lives of your friends and neighbours. They still have something, do they not?' I hesitated. She nodded. 'I understand the Joining is often fatal. So, the worst that will happen is you die anyway.'

"The Wardens are neutral in Orlais but the Warden there, he conscripted me. He told me later that he'd agreed that I had the aptitude, and despite his initial reluctance, he'd seen something in my expression when the Empress had suggested I could save lives. I was not grateful. I kept saying, I would run away as soon as I could. But they kept an eye on me, and I survived the Joining. Then they pulled me into action. I _wanted_ to run off but … there were people. And I couldn't leave them. So, I told myself, I would help out this _one_ time and then…

Sigrun snorted. "I know how that goes."

"Well. Yes. And as time went on, I found myself feeling _happy_. I liked the Wardens – they were good people, who treated me with respect. I liked seeing Thedas. I liked fighting the darkspawn, _protecting_ people. But then I'd remember that my family was dead and the ache would hollow me out. Eventually, I had a new goal, a sort of compromise. I would keep throwing myself at the darkspawn until I died. That became all I cared about. I used to _dream_ of a Blight, dream of being the one who slayed the Archdemon so that I could end it all in an honourable way. Did you ever wonder why _I_ got this post?"

"To insult Ferelden?"

"Charming. No. The Empress again. She was the one who'd suggested to the Wardens that they keep me busy. And when the call came for one of us to lead in Amaranthine, she recommended me. She had justifiable reasons – I had been a Warden for ten years. Long enough to be experienced, not so long that I would only be there for a short period of time. I was capable. I had experience of command by then. I had travelled a lot, knew a lot of other cultures, and had no particular loyalty to Orlais. But when she gave me my uniform, she told me that she was worried that, with the Blight already ended and two Wardens dead by the Archdemon, I would lose my purpose. She'd recommended me because _Amaranthine_ wasn't something I could run away from. It had been ten years since we had spoken and she had not only remembered me, but knew enough to know…"

"I see," Sigrun said. She couldn't help herself. "So, when you made an effort to get to know us at the start, did you _want_ to or was it because that's what commanders do?"

Evelien didn't look away. "At the start, my only goal was to keep everything running and get rid of the remaining darkspawn. But … then I met Anders and Oghren, and they were … Anders and Oghren. And then Nathaniel, so blunt." She smiled fondly. "And then, of course, I met _you_ and you were _you_. It had stopped being just an assignment long before I met Velanna and Justice. You were all so quirky and funny and hard working. I hear all sorts of terrible things about the Empress now, but I cannot forget that she gave me these last fifteen years. She gave me all of you."

"Evelien…" She looked at the elf. She thought of what the elf had said. "I'm sorry," she said. "You … what happened to you. That's terrible." She swallowed. "I can understand, I guess. If you want to see them again."

The smile had slipped. "I do," she said quietly. "Every day. It has been longer now that they have been dead but not a day goes by that I do not think of them. But I don't regret living now. And I don't think they would hate me for it. They were not like that." She bit her lip. "I like to think they are waiting for me in the Fade."

"Does that happen?"

"You don't know?"

Sigrun shrugged. "Justice tried to explain the Fade to me but it's not a dwarven thing. Dwarves just … die."

Sadness flashed over Evelien's face. "I forgot that." She hesitated, looked at Sigrun, looking like she wanted to say _something_. But all she said was, "I can't see why it would not be possible."

She made herself smile. "Then I'm happy for you. Not _happy_. Just … I'm glad you'll get to see them again. And maybe you can see Justice too. Tell him we miss him."

"Maybe." She hesitated again. "You will not follow then?"

"I…" She bit her lip. "My duty is down there, and I do not want you to be…"

"Sigrun..." She looked down. "There is a part of me – a very selfish part – that wants to take you up on that. I used to want death. I am not scared of it. But … I would like to not face it alone." She looked up and a stubborn set came to her jaw. "But I will not let you lose what could be fifteen years, as wonderful as my last fifteen. I will not let you lose the people you love. So, please. _Please_ do not follow me. Not to Weisshaupt and not to the Deep Roads."

"I don't want to make a promise that I don't know I'll keep. I'll think about it, OK?" She tried to smile. "Maybe we should just enjoy your last few days here."

"Yes," Evelien said sadly. "We should."

* * *

The next few days seemed to blur. Everyone was abuzz with the news of Evelien's sudden departure. An impromptu party was planned. Nathaniel, who everyone knew was to be the next commander, was suddenly treated with twice as much respect. Velanna, Oghren, Anders all became more serious as the realisation that _they_ were the senior Wardens sunk in.

Evelien seemed to constantly be with other Wardens. She would sit down with some, walk with others, drink with more. It wasn't until she saw Evelien with Oghren, talking about his daughter, that she realised Evelien was saying goodbye to each and every person in the Keep.

Nathaniel saw her watching. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her to him in a one-armed hug.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine."

"I … you two…"

"It's-"

"It doesn't matter." He looked at her. "If you'd told me, fifteen years ago, that I would serve under an Orlesian elf and willingly give my life for her, marry an apostate elf mage, and eventually become Commander of the Grey, I'd have laughed. She changed us all."

"She talks like she's old but she's not, is she? I realised when we were talking. She's only a few years older than me." She sighed. "She was right. You'll be a good commander."

"Co-commander." His eyes were kind. "Perhaps not in name, but I'm under no illusion. I cannot do this without you."

"She's spoken to you, hasn't she?"

He smiled his small smile. "I know you seek death, Sigrun. You've hardly made a secret of it. But you joined not long after Oghren, Anders and I. I had always thought … foolish as it is, but we and Velanna, we've always been Wardens together and all things considered, we're likely to last as long as each other. I know how you and Evelien are, but you have us too. Help us keep the world going. Then one day, we'll face the darkspawn together in the Deep Roads." He saw her chew her lip. "You know it is what Evelien would want. And you know you have much up here you still want to do. Be that dwarf hero for Rica's son. Be the one of us who keeps asking questions, who makes us laugh, who will help Oghren with his daughter and Anders with his wanderlust. Be the one who gets to know the Wardens, lets them form what we have, so that when we leave, we have _all_ done our duty. Do this one last thing. For us."

She stared at him. Nathaniel was hardly talkative at the best of times. "Nathaniel…"

He straightened. "Just think about it, OK?"

* * *

On the final night, they threw a party. It was loud and raucous, and even the _King_ made an appearance. For possibly the first time, Sigrun saw Evelien really let go. She was giggly, she cracked loud jokes, and told amusing anecdotes. She got into a drinking contest with Oghren, made ribald comments with Anders, teased Nathaniel, and tried to get Velanna to smile.

Sigrun watched her as the night went on, and tried not to think that this time tomorrow, she would be gone. She had one night to be like this and then…

Anders followed her outside as she blinked rapidly. Without a word, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just … _this_ is who she could have been, and now she never gets to be this happy again. I'm being stupid."

"You're not," Anders said.

"I … I don't want her to leave."

"None of us do. She's helped all of us. Maker, when it's my time, I hope I'm half as dignified." He smiled. "But I guess that's what we signed up for. Well. You signed up for. _I_ got conscripted." He laughed softly. "I always forget that. She told me she feels bad about it. But she let me travel and have all those dalliances. I guess I can live without retiring to the country with various lovers." Sigrun laughed softly, and he smiled. "She's left us something great, hasn't she? You and Nathaniel, you'll keep it going, and we'll be with you. It's what she wants. And when we go to the Deep Roads…"

"You'll see her in the Fade." He looked at her quizzically. Again, she said, "Dwarves don't go to the Fade."

"Natia Brosca did," he said. "Oghren told me-"

"She got trapped there when she saved the Circle," Sigrun said, remembering that story. She felt something stirring in her chest. "I … that was exceptional though."

Anders shrugged. "Who knows? You or Oghren might have come through when we were in the Blackmarsh, if you'd been there. Perhaps we all just pass through when we die and meet up afterwards. I try not to think about it." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "We've got years left. We can think of a way to smuggle you in. Just don't give us too hard a ride."

"I'm not commanding."

"Nathaniel will scare everyone. You're definitely partly in charge."

"I'm not scary?"

"Terrifying. Until you see something shiny."

"I _like_ shiny things."

"I can sympathise. But it makes you easy to distract." He ruffled her hair again. "Ready to go in?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Anders."

"Any time."

They went back in. If anyone had noticed their absence, they didn't comment. Anders stayed with her a while, teasing her, challenging her to eating contests, and generally making her laugh. He even produced Ser Pounce-a-lot from somewhere, who looked a little grouchy at being disturbed but warmed up to Sigrun's hugs.

She noticed, after he'd been called away, that Velanna, Oghren and Nathaniel made an effort to ensure one of them was always with her. And maybe Nathaniel had said something but, like Anders, Oghren and Velanna made references to life with her and Nathaniel in charge. Everything they said exuded confidence that she would be there; and underneath it, she could sense a concern, a wanting to make it better. At one point, she saw Oghren studying her, and wondered if he remembered telling her that Evelien cared too much and tried too hard.

It occurred to her that, for all of their flaws, her friends were some of the best people she'd ever met.

* * *

The one person she barely spoke to was Evelien. Everyone wanted to speak to Evelien, and Sigrun didn't want to interrupt. She still had fun but she couldn't help wishing they'd finished their last proper conversation on a better note.

But then, when half the party had already given up and gone to bed, Evelien stood and stumbled slightly. She giggled. Sigrun stood, and Evelien saw her. She waved.

"You doing OK, Evelien?" Sigrun said. Evelien took another step, and stumbled again. Sigrun dashed forwards, catching her with an arm around her waist. "Want some help?"

"I think," Evelien whispered conspiratorially, "that I've had too much to drink."

"That's possible."

"Uh huh. Help me back to my room? Please?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She looked around. "I'm sorry everyone. I think I … I think … sleep?"

That won a wave of groans, followed by people wishing her a good night and saying they would see her tomorrow. Sigrun kept an arm wrapped around the elf's waist and slowly guided her through the corridors. Her heart sank. Evelien was clearly drunk. And when she woke up, she would say goodbye to everyone and be gone.

After all of this, after _everything_ , everyone else had had a goodbye; Sigrun had had an argument.

She opened the door to Evelien's bedroom. She'd only been in here a handful of times, but she was startled by how bare it was. All of Evelien's possessions had either been removed or packed. A lump settled in her throat but she would not cry. This was Evelien's last night. She was happy that Evelien had had a good time. That had been the point.

She helped Evelien to the bed, then turned.

"Sigrun?"

She turned. Evelien was sat on the bed. Her eyes were focused, and the drunk smile had slipped a little.

"Yeah?"

"Can you … stay with me?" She sounded vulnerable; the dreaminess had dropped from her voice.

Her heart beat faster. "You sure?"

"Yes." Evelien looked hesitant. "I don't want to spend my last night without you."

Now, Sigrun paused. "You … you're not actually drunk, are you?"

"A little." Evelien grinned mischievously but then the vulnerable look came back. "I loved the party. But when I picture my final celebration before going on the long walk, I've recently imagined a party followed by … being with you. Talking. One last time." She bit her lip. "You do not have to. I was getting tired anyway. I-"

Relief pouring through her, Sigrun walked towards the bed and sat. After a few seconds, Evelien lay down and Sigrun crawled beside her, head laying on her shoulder. The elf looped an arm around her. Their legs tangled together.

Sigrun could count on both hands the number of times they had been quite as entangled as this. But it felt calm. Peaceful. She lay on her side and looked at that familiar, tattooed face. She hesitated, before freeing an arm to brush her palm against Evelien's cheek. The elf closed her eyes.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" Sigrun said as her hand fell away from the cheek.

"Yes. Very much." Evelien's eyes opened again. "I can't believe it has been fifteen years since I came here." An exhale. "I can't believe I have been a Warden for twenty-five."

Sigrun watched her. "What were the highlights and low points?" Evelien raised an eyebrow. "When else are you going to get to talk about it? Maybe start with the regrets, so it gets better."

A flash of a smile. "End on a good note?"

"Exactly."

"OK. Just my time as a Warden?"

"Up to you."

"OK." Evelien considered, then said, "My family. Camille. I know I couldn't have saved them but … I will always regret not being there. Not even having the _chance_ to save them. I can't even imagine how scared they were. I … I did not even say goodbye. I said I would be back soon, and they should not … eat all the food without me."

Sigrun reached down until her fingers found Evelien's hand, and squeezed. "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is." She breathed in. "Amaranthine. It has been nearly fifteen years, and I still do not know if I did the right thing. The tacticians say I did but … all those people, Sigrun. They trusted me to save them and I ordered them to be burned. What if I had saved Amaranthine? We still could have stopped the Mother."

"Maybe," Sigrun said. "Or we might have been spread too thin. I guess we'll never know."

"I know," Evelien said, sighing. "But." A pause. Then. "Velanna, and her sister. I didn't even _think_ to ask about Seranni and now…" She swallowed. "We spoke. Velanna has not forgiven me. I knew she wouldn't. But she said she considers me a friend, and she is grateful for everything else. I just wish…"

Sigrun squeezed her hand again. "You can't save everyone." She saw Evelien open her mouth to protest. "You _can't_. You're amazing but you're not the Maker. Probably." She saw a quirk of lips. "Anything else?"

There was a lot, it turned out. If Sigrun hadn't spent so many evenings with Evelien, she might have been surprised that the elf doubted herself so much. But even knowing her as well as she did, Sigrun was surprised at how _much_ she regretted. Not giving the Architect a chance, maybe ending the Blights for good. Conscripting Anders against his will. Some failures when she was in Orlais; being apathetic for so many years. Putting down the riots in Amaranthine violently after trying to talk down the crowd didn't work. Not arriving at Vigil's Keep in time to save the Orlesian Wardens.

"OK," Sigrun said. "How about the good things?"

"Camille," Evelien said immediately. She paused, eyes flickering down to Sigrun, so the dwarf made herself smile. "I … you would have liked Camille, Sigrun. Everyone did. It, it's funny. At the time, it felt as though we had been together forever but I suppose it was only a few years. We were childhood sweethearts. We had plans. We would start a shop. Have children. Grow old…" Sigrun heard a sniff. "Camille was funny, and sweet, and stupidly romantic. I often came home to find flowers or little tokens. And my earring: that was Camille's idea. One each, so we would know we were a pair. I used to laugh but … I liked it, really." She made a choked sound. "It's ridiculous. It has been so long. You would think…"

Her throat felt tight as she said, "When you love someone, there are no limits to it. Or so I'm told."

Evelien looked down at her. "Perhaps." She smiled slightly, and closed her eyes. "What else? I know. Defeating the Mother."

"You _did_ save probably all of Ferelden," Sigrun said.

"Nathaniel did, technically. But still. I shudder to think what would have happened if we hadn't gotten there."

And then, much like with the regrets, Evelien was suddenly bursting to tell Sigrun about all of the good things in her life. Her family. The first time she'd fought darkspawn as a Warden. Despite everything, being _trusted_ to lead the Wardens in Ferelden. Standing up for Anders; and Anders coming back. Nathaniel's pride at being a Warden. Nathaniel and Velanna finding happiness with each other. Helping Oghren with his daughter. Saving the spirits of the people trapped in the Blackmarsh.

It soon became apparent that nearly all of Evelien's highlights revolved around being able to help her fellow Wardens, and other people. Sigrun liked watching her talk about it. Her face almost glowed, and she smiled as she recalled these small incidents.

Eventually, she fell silent. Sigrun said, "All done?"

The elf bit her lip. "There is one other thing." When Sigrun looked at her quizzically, she said, "You."

Sigrun waited, because every other named Warden had had a story attached. When nothing was forthcoming, she said, "Me what?"

Evelien blushed. "Just … you. You know what you are to me, yes?"

Sigrun swallowed but Evelien's gaze was intent. "Yes," she said softly, feeling as though some kind of line had been crossed. Evelien closed her eyes. "And you know it's reciprocal, right?"

A tension seemed to leave Evelien's body. "Sigrun…"

Sigrun leaned forwards, burying her head in Evelien's neck. "Don't _ever_ doubt how I feel about you," she said. "Even if it's not … it doesn't make it any less…"

She felt Evelien shift closer so they were torso to torso, felt slim hands rub her arm comfortingly, felt lips brush her cheek. "I know, Sigrun. I know. And you should know too. You always support me. You always see the best in me. You remind me why life is worth living."

She closed her eyes and forced herself not to tell Evelien how much she didn't want her to go.

Perhaps Evelien knew, because she said, "So, how about you?"

"How about me what?" Sigrun said, eyes still squeezed shut.

"What are your regrets and highlights?" Sigrun hesitated. "I just want to know you as well as…"

Because Evelien would never have another chance.

Her eyes opened. Her throat hurt.

"Mischa," she said. She leaned back to look up at the elf. "I know what you said about not blaming myself, but she's dead and it's my fault. I got her sent up here. I tried to make things better with the ring and you gave her gold and she stayed in Amaranthine." She bit her lip. "She deserved better. She just wanted to help me."

"You couldn't have controlled it," Evelien said quietly. "You said Beraht would have killed you."

"Then maybe I should have died." She snorted. "Probably the story of my life there. Since I also regret fleeing Kal'Hirol. I … I _had_ my duty. They all died and I ran away, like a scared child. I don't know what I thought would happen. The ancestors would have made me casteless all over again if they knew."

"But," Evelien said quietly, "if you had not fled, we might not have gotten through Kal'Hirol. We might not have defeated the Architect or the Mother. There are so many people who owe their lives to you."

"People tell me that. But then I think of those who _didn't_ make it, like Varlan and that guard and…" She sighed. "It's selfish but a lot of the time, I've been glad that I've survived. There's always so much I want to do. And being with you, with everyone, has been the happiest part of my life. Not that it's hard to beat Dust Town. But up here, I've been _useful_. Not a useless mouth to feed for my mother, or a blight on my uncle's name. I wish I'd had the courage to see my uncle when I was back in Orzammar. I wish I … Bhelen Aeducan's son thinks I'm a _hero_. Girls down there, they want to follow in my footsteps."

"With good reason," Evelien said. "You, all of you, have made me so, so proud. I have been honoured to be your commander. And I think you have loved ones here."

"I do," Sigrun admitted. "I can barely imagine life without Anders' sarcasm, or Oghren's jokes, or Nathaniel or Velanna or … you." She glanced up. "I wish this wasn't the end."

"I know," Evelien said softly.

"You've been a good commander. Never doubt that, OK?"

"Thank you. I wish Natia Brosca had survived, though. I think-"

"You had the harder job," Sigrun said. "She did all these amazing things, but she wasn't running part of a country. She was just fighting demons and monsters. It's easier to thank someone for something flashy than something they don't see. And when someone's dead, it's easy to forget all the bad things they did." She paused. "Did you know, before she was recruited, she was a Carta thug? Worse than me. She murdered people. Nobody ever mentions that, but it's true. And the King is nice, but he's not … good at being a king. Oghren said, she was supposed to nominate some lady called Anora, who was apparently better at ruling. She picked him because she didn't trust her, and everyone cheers her for that even though Orlais is chomping at Ferelden. No offence. It's just … you had different jobs. That's all."

"Thanks, Sigrun." She heard a smile in the elf's voice, followed by a yawn. "Oghren said something similar to me. I think there will always be part of me that wishes I could have been the hero everyone had in Natia. But … I look at you and the others, and all that we have accomplished and think, maybe I did enough. It was never supposed to be about being as good as her or being beloved or popular. It was about doing the right thing. That is what she died for. That is what all Wardens die for, in the end."

"I think that when history looks back on the Keep, they'll recognise you." Sigrun smiled. "You should have asked for a statue."

"That…" Evelien yawned. "That would be awful. They would…" Another yawn. "Make my ears too pointy."

A hollow feeling nudged Sigrun as she said, "Tired?"

Evelien sighed. "Yes. I have to be up in a few hours." She breathed in deeply. "I wish this would never end."

"I guess all things come to an end." Her throat felt tight. "You'll face your end gloriously, and then you'll go to the Fade and see Camille and your family. Tell them I said hi, OK? Tell them I said I hoped they don't mind that we borrowed you for so long, and thank you for waiting so patiently, and, and that they better look after you."

"Sigrun…" She felt something wet drip on her face. "Let's get some sleep. We still have the morning."

"I know." She sighed and buried her head into the crook of Evelien's neck, letting herself enjoy the feeling of skin on skin. "Goodnight, Evelien."

Lips touched her cheek. "Goodnight, dear one."

* * *

The next morning, they untangled themselves from each other. Someone had been in and left Sigrun's uniform. Quietly, they changed, and went down to breakfast. Evelien gripped Sigrun's hand as they walked. What was the point of worrying about rumours now?

Nobody commented on their hand holding. In fact, breakfast was a sombre affair, with nobody really knowing what to say. At the end of it, a servant told Evelien that all of her bags were on the ship, so they walked to the docks, still hand in hand. When they got there, Wardens and soldiers were lining up. Evelien and Sigrun looked at each other. Sigrun opened her mouth-

"Commander, there you are. Come on, the podium is set up."

And suddenly, Evelien was whisked away in a bustle of well-meaning administration. A pang shot through her. After all this…

"Come on," Nathaniel said kindly. "We'll ambush her before she leaves." When she looked at him, he smiled slightly. "She won't just leave without a backward glance. You know that."

So, she took her place, in the front line of the Wardens. Next to her, Velanna, in an uncharacteristic show of sympathy, put an arm around her shoulders. Evelien walked up to the podium in front of the ship. Her expression was calm and stoic but Sigrun could see a touch of sadness in her eyes. The dwarf's gaze flickered to Evelien's earring. She'd never really asked about it. It had never occurred to her that there was a story and a person behind it.

"I will keep this short," Evelien said. "When I first came to Ferelden, I thought I might be here for a few years at most. I thought it would be hard work, surrounded by foreigners, trying to build up a force." She looked around before letting a smile slip onto her face. "But instead, I stayed here fifteen years and would not have it any other way. Because I met all of you. I met people who would stand on the battlefield and never waver. I met people who would sacrifice everything to save the world from the darkspawn. I met people who I am proud to call brother and sister. I met people who I came to love." Her gaze flickered briefly to Sigrun, then to the Wardens. "You stood with me against the Mother. You stood with me to rebuild Amaranthine, to fight off the bandits and pirates and the darkspawn. You stood with me to teach our guards, to find food for our children, to rebuild a legacy. You are the heroes of this arling, of this country." She took a breath. "I do not know what I will find when I go to Weisshaupt. Maker grant that it's not another Blight. But it does not matter. I go in peace. Because I know that you will keep this Keep and this country safe for centuries to come." A few people cheered. She gestured to Nathaniel. "I know everyone knows, but I think now is the time for me to formally hand over the reins to Nathaniel Howe, your new Commander of the Grey."

Nathaniel walked forwards to the podium as people cheered again. His back was straight and Sigrun could see the pride in his face. In his hands, he held the knives that they had clubbed together to buy.

"For you," he said simply. "There is nobody here who does not, in some way, owe their life to you. You have given Ferelden its Wardens back, and you have given us all pride, strength, friendship. You have taught us the values of the Grey Wardens, and given us the means to defend ourselves against the Blight. I am honoured to follow in your footsteps and only hope I can be even half as worthy as you, my friend."

He hugged her, and everyone cheered again as she hugged him back.

"You know," Nathaniel said. "If you have time, I think your brothers would like to say goodbye."

"Of course," Evelien said. "I would love to."

She descended and headed for the back row. Sigrun looked up at the podium and saw Nathaniel wink. A wave of gratitude washed over her. Because everyone else had said their goodbyes. Nobody else had needed one more. Not really. She could see the seneschal and the boat's captain anxiously checking the time. She could see Evelien, perhaps aware, trying to hug each Warden as quickly as possible without rushing.

She thought about that earring, about those tattoos. About all of the urgent and important tasks that Evelien had spent fifteen years finding for her. About Anders' stupid sense of humour, Oghren's heart of gold buried under lecherous leers, Velanna's reluctant heroism, Nathaniel's quiet kindness. About families saved from bandits, facing down ogres and hurlocks, a girl called Nika who wanted to join the Wardens because of her. About the fifteen years that the Empress of Orlais had given Evelien.

Evelien clasped Anders' shoulder, smiling at a joke he made. She scratched Ser Pounce-a-lot's ears.

It didn't feel real, she thought suddenly. She'd been saying goodbye mentally to Evelien for the past few days but she still couldn't imagine the Keep without her. All of those days without hearing of urgent tasks, eyes laughing at her as she was sent to breed cats or clean hallways or fight ogres. Nobody to mediate their fights. No dry jokes. No evenings in her office, drinking and talking. No seeing her read Oghren's letters, or talk about Ferelden history with Nathaniel, or playing with the cats and dogs of the Keep, or give anyone a gift…

And now Evelien was talking to Oghren. She saw him give her a respectful shoulder clasp, and then blush deeply as the elf hugged him instead.

Her fingers tapped her ring. It occurred to her that for all of their conversation the evening before, Evelien had not described her killing her family's murderers as either a highlight or a regret; and Sigrun had not discussed her death-seeking tendencies or her plans after Evelien left. Even now, even after all this, there were lines they could not cross.

Evelien was next to her, talking quietly to Velanna. Sigrun tried not to listen as they murmured softly to each other. Evelien hugged the other elf, and Sigrun thought she heard a murmured Dalish prayer from the mage.

And then Evelien was in front of her. From the corner of her eye, she saw people turn away and realised they were trying to give them privacy. Fondness for her fellow Wardens washed over her.

"So," Evelien said softly.

"So."

They watched each other a second longer, before Evelien grabbed her in a bone-crushing hug. When she stepped back, she put her hands on Sigrun's shoulders, looking into her eyes.

And, suddenly, she knew.

"Sigrun," Evelien started.

But Sigrun had grabbed her ring from her hand and held it up. "Here. Take it."

"What?" Evelien frowned. "I can't take that. That's Varlan's ring."

"I know. But I was thinking. You gave us all these gifts for all these years but we never gave you anything. And I want you to have this. When you pass on, when you're with your family, I don't want you to think I've forgotten you." She could feel a blush coming on. "So, this is your reminder that I'll find you. Varlan would be pleased with that."

Evelien hesitated. "Sigrun, you can't-"

"That's not all," Sigrun said. She took a breath. "I don't know how long I'm going to be. If I'm lucky, it'll be at least another fifteen years. I don't want you to wait for me, not if it'll cost you time with Camille and your family. I like shiny things. So does Anders. He'll help me find the ring and you, when we take the long walk ourselves. Everyone will, I know. So."

A smile crept on to Evelien's face, so wide that Sigrun thought her face might burst. "You are sure?"

"I … I'll always think about my duty but… yes." As Evelien took the ring and put it on, Sigrun trailed a hand down the elf's cheek. "I never said thank you for saving my life and for doing everything you could, to give me so many wonderful years. I meant it, you know. These have been some of the best years of my life."

Evelien bent down so their foreheads touched. "I am blessed to have known you, Sigrun. Live a long and happy life, and keep being a hero to the kids of Dust Town. Thank you. For everything."

Sigrun blinked away tears as she said, "You are one of the best people I have ever known. May the ancestors watch over you, Evelien, and may you always find your way in the dark. May your deeds never be forgotten." She sniffed. "May we meet again one day and live in peace."

They hugged, rocking slightly, as the world quietened around them.

And then they were separating, tears running down both their faces. Evelien took a few steps backwards, as Velanna once again wrapped an arm around the dwarf's shoulders, and Anders came behind her, to rest his head on hers, his arms looped around her chest, and Oghren sidled alongside her, to bump her arm with his. She smiled through her tears at Evelien, and mouthed, _Go_.

So, Evelien walked onto the boat, and looked out at the Wardens. "In war, victory," she called. "In peace, vigilance." She looked at Sigrun, and Velanna and Anders and Oghren and Nathaniel, who had come to join them. "In death," she said, "sacrifice."

* * *

Afterwards, as they walked back, Anders cautiously said, "What do you plan to do, Sigrun?"

She could feel everyone's attention, even though nobody looked at her.

"I suppose I'll have to be Nathaniel's second-in-command," she said. "That's what Evelien wanted me to do."

Nathaniel smiled. "I'm honoured to have you."

"Aye, that's right," Oghren said. "You take on all the responsibility. Give me the keys to the cellar."

"You wish," she said, with a forced laugh.

"So, you're not planning on leaving?" Anders said. "For sure?"

She rubbed the place where her ring used to be, as she looked at them all, faces anxious and bodies tense.

"No," she said. "Not yet." She looked at where the boat had been. "After all, there are a few more things I need to do first."

**_Fin_ **


End file.
